


Beyond the Cinders

by DanniCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Forget the shoe, Happy Ending, M/M, Princes & Lords, because if you can't recognize them without a shoe, you don't deserve them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanniCat/pseuds/DanniCat
Summary: Harry is an orphan who is lucky to have an Aunt and Uncle to take him in.  They make him work and he does more than he should, but he's making it work. When Prince Thomas has his 21st birthday ball to welcome in the new year and the prince's chosen, Harry is sent as a servant to help with the preparations. But this crazy Sirius Black convinces him to substitute for his long-lost godson and Harry meets his perfect partner with the ball. Only problem? Harry's an orphaned servant and his adorable, if uptight dance partner named Tom, is none other than Prince Thomas.Prince Thomas has three days to convince Harry to stay and when he can't he now has one week to find him. But for all it seems that everyone knows this Harry, no one seems to be able to find him.





	1. And So It Begins

Harry ran from the ball, beautiful music and laughter accompanying his hurried steps in echoing amongst the stone walls. The first day of the celebration was still going on, dancing, singing, and laughing, bringing joy to everyone as they celebrated the birthday of their prince. After all, he only turned 21 once and he was required to take a consort this year or risk losing all rights to the throne. Not that anyone actually expected that to happen, no matter how long it took for the boy to make his choice, but the precedence was there.

The prince was well-loved by his family and the people despite some of the rumors about his temper. He always seemed ready to help the people who’d fallen down. His mother’s story had instilled in him a passion for the poor and a love of his people. He was still aloof, but his manners made him stand out, head and shoulders above the rest.

Needless to say- anyone should have been flattered to have been the man’s chosen. When Harry had realized his heart had gone through the ceiling and floated with the stars. Until reality came crashing down hard at the sight of a very familiar face.

This prince thought the dark-haired boy was a noble in status, at least. But Harry wasn’t anything special. He was a freak, a no-good orphan of a servant. He had nothing, so he hadn’t exactly expected the crown prince to ask him to dance.

Harry hadn’t even known who the handsome stranger was when he had first been asked to dance, in fact, he probably would have turned him down had he known. But the gorgeous gentleman had pulled him aside without questions. And when he had recalled the man’s name- “Tom” hadn’t even triggered a connection to the Prince Thomas Marvolo Riddle.

When the man had asked to introduce Harry to his family, Harry had easily agreed, thinking of nothing but the minutes of happiness and a chance at freedom. Until he’d realized he’d been heading toward the thrones that sat overlooking the dancers. His feet had frozen in place causing his dance partner to glance at him in question. Harry’s brain had quickly pieced together the worst solution and he swallowed heavily before nodding at the King and the King’s son-in-law.

“You…You’re the prince?”

Tom had shrugged, “Technically, but I prefer not to think about it to be honest.”

Harry just stared, what were the odds. This was what happened when you let a crazy noble with his wand ask you a favor. This was what happened when you stepped outside your comfort zone. You were placed in a moment where you hung suspended between a broken heart and high treason.

Just then the clock chimed over. Harry looked up in time to see the clock tick until it stood at five minutes to twelve. He felt a buzzing over his ears and could sense the static in his hair as it began to stand on end against the charms holding it flat (Well flatter, anyway) He had to get out of here.

“If you’ll excuse me, your highness. I’m afraid I must leave.”

The prince startled, “What? But you said you would-.”

“I’m sorry, but-.” He glanced around finding the nearest door, “I must go.”

“Is it because I am the prince?”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean… It’s complicated! I really must leave. I’m sorry!” Harry gently wrested his arm away and disappeared into the crowds.

Harry made his way across the floor, past the dancers and food and the few people he had spoken with. He was standing at the acceptable entrance, guarded by two tall men, sooner than he would have liked. He had hoped this evening could have continued. He had to pause at the doors, not knowing if he could really go back to the life that lay beyond them.

But he didn’t have a choice.

He shook his head and made to move on, but his wrist was caught in the tight grip of a gloved hand. He turned to look into worried brown eyes that held the slightest red tone around the pupils blown wide. He felt his heart clench at the worry and anxiety that lay within those orbs.

He gently pulled the prince’s fingers from his wrist giving a gentle squeeze to the gloved hand before he turned again to flee.

“You’ll come back? Tomorrow?”

“Perhaps.” He was starting

“Please?”

The guards seemed to stand straighter at that and Harry would hazard a guess that it was only years of training that prevented their turning to stare at the boy who made the prince say ‘please.’

Even so Harry couldn’t answer. He gave a slight smile, that he feared showed everything he was feeling, before he shoved out the doors, ignoring the warm voice calling for him to wait.

Which had led Harry to this moment, hurrying down the halls, trying to avoid the man who had made him feel wanted, appreciated, for the first time. Unfortunately, the prince had not been willing to accept Harry’s silence as an answer. Which was fair seeing as Harry didn’t believe it to be much of an answer either.

The prince seemed to be determined to have his way and made chase after the fleeing boy. He caught up only moments after the main castle doors had closed. The doors swung open at his approach but Tom could only curse from the top stair as he could not even spy a carriage, or horse, or even a person racing down the driveway.

He cursed under his breath and cast a reveal charm, only to find no trace of his flighty dance partner. Apparently, this partner was more than worthy of him if he could either afford this level of magic cast upon him or cast it himself. He frowned as he scanned the castle paths once more before reluctantly turning and re-entering the celebration.

Just beneath the banisters the flowering rose bushes hid the shape of a dirty servant boy, knees and fingers sore from scrubbing the ballroom floors all day, soft clothes made that way through constant use rather than a fine dollar, hair falling in an untidy nest rather than styled coifs. The only reminder of the boy who had danced so comfortably with the prince was the jagged scar across his forehead and green eyes dimmed now in resignation as the royal figure retreated to his party.

****

****

…A week earlier…

Harry wasn’t going to lie to himself. He could have been far unluckier following the death of his parents. He could have been sent to a prison, to work for a slave master, or even to have been left abandoned on these streets.

Instead he was taken in by his mother’s family. A noble family who had maintained their rank despite turning their nose up at what they believed was an abnormality. An ‘abnormality’ which had provided their rank in the first place.

An ‘abnormality’ that his father had inherited, and his mother had been lucky enough to attract his attention with a slight talent herself. Or unlucky enough if you listened to his aunt and uncle. Of course, that marriage was the reason they were living in such a nice place, not that they would ever tell you that.

Harry had long since determined that the only reason they kept him was fear that their lack of the ‘abnormality’ would result in their being stripped of their title and lands. They understood that so long as they had their nephew around people might believe that he too possessed the ‘abnormality’ although to be fair more people referred to it as ‘the gift.’

So he got to live in his grandparent’s manor following their death along with the rest of his family. They all enjoyed the fine ornamentation, high class food, and servants waiting on them hand a foot. His uncle was a merchant and traveled selling tools to those who were not blessed with the gift. He was a proud proponent of the idea that one did not need to pay people to magic a solution.

Harry on the other hand enjoyed his small room in the basement next to the boiler so that he could continue to stoke it throughout the night. He dressed in his cousin’s tailor-made hand-me-downs that were belted around his frame using any spare twine he could find. He ate whatever his family deemed to give him when they felt he deserved it (which meant he relied on the cook and maid to give him leftovers from their meals when they could). He spent the majority of his day practicing the skills the family gardener had taught him before he’d been asked to move into a better position at another household.

No one blamed the older man for leaving, a majority of the staff had found work elsewhere within a year of the family moving in. They were horrid to their staff and to anyone they thought below them. In the end, the only ones who stayed were Mrs. Weasley, their cook, and Mrs. Figg, their maid. Mrs. Weasley stayed thanks to the fact she had five children to feed and two more who were off in the world. Her husband had a good job but could not take in enough to feed a family as large as theirs. Especially with six sons who needed an inheritance and a daughter who needed a dowry.

Mrs. Figg stayed because she literally didn’t remember how bad the family was day after day. She had a routine and she stuck to it day after day. The same day on an eternal loop. As far as Harry could tell, she was repeating a Tuesday from about five years ago.

Harry ended up picking up the rest of the slack. Mrs. Figg only ever remembered to clean the bedrooms and the office every day. Harry cleaned the halls, the bathrooms, the den, the living room, the dining room, the attic (although he didn’t know why, it’s not like anyone went up there), the conservatory, the library, and whatever else his aunt could find that was ‘not pristine.’ Then he tended the gardens and the horses, then he eventually made his way inside where, thankfully, Mrs. Weasley was usually able and willing to help with the darning and mending. Sometimes she was even able to bring her youngest daughter to help. She was a bit quiet, but Harry could see her fire beneath the surface.

Harry’s best friend was actually the youngest Weasley son, they didn’t get to see each other very often as he was apprenticing at the castle. He had been a page for a year now and was hoping to be taken on as a squire when they hosted the next contest. Apparently, he flitted from master to master as needed and was waiting for one of them to take him on fully, seeing as he was getting far past the age when all of his other brothers had been taken on.

Two of the six brothers were employed at the castle now. Percy, who Harry had met once, was a scribe. He had taught himself to read and write somehow and was quickly snatched by the royal family. Charlie was the marshal, but also doubled as a caregiver for all the animals of the palace.

So while Ron complained daily about the work of carrying trays up and down stairs and having to wait in silence until he was needed, Harry nodded and commiserated with his friend. But no one really understood, he kept it from them all, you see. Sure, they saw that he was overworked, but no one knew that in order to get his chores done, Harry slept four hours a night. Two while Mrs. Figg made the beds and the family settled for the night, and two more just before Mrs. Weasley came in to begin making the breakfast for the day.

Everyone once and a while she would catch him waking up, but she had no idea. He had to stoke the fire all night after all and there was no one else to maintain the fires at night in the bedrooms so that his aunt and uncle would have warm floors on which to set their feet. No one else to lay out his family’s clothes.

No one really noticed, but Harry always hoped that maybe if he worked hard enough and didn’t complain that his mother’s words would come true and he would find love and happiness. All he needed was to have courage and be kind.

So Harry never complained, made excuses for his family’s horridness, and snuck a sip of his uncle’s morning coffee to keep from falling asleep. For thirteen years he put up with their cruelty, learned more and more skills, and fought to keep his family from falling into ruin. One dark night in the winter of his seventeenth year he thought that perhaps it had all been worth it when his uncle and aunt received a letter from the palace.

He thanked the messenger and offered him water and a snack before he headed on his way. But the large man shook his head, Hagrid had a great many more houses to visit after all. Harry wished him a good day and shut the door only to find a boney finger pointed in his face.

“Clean yourself up, boy! We must have you looking your best. Go inform the tailor that we need three fine outfits for the upcoming ball. The prince’s twenty-first year is to be marked by a celebration that shall end in his choosing a consort.”

Harry grabbed his cloak and was trying to plan out finishing his chores with this interruption when his uncle’s voice cut through the air.

“Get yourself something nice as well. Can’t have you looking like that when you may be connected with us.”

Harry froze, one hand on the wooden surface before turning slowly to look at his uncle’s expectant look, “That’s…Truly?”

His aunt frowned, “Yes, yes. Do not spend too much. Something simple will do just find. Perhaps find something second-hand someone will sell to you.”

“Thank you!” Harry grinned, his green eyes glowing brighter than they had in years, “I won’t embarrass you at that the ball, I swear. I won’t talk with anyone or dance with anyone, I’ll just-.”

He was interrupted by his cousin’s laugh, “Mummy! He thinks he’s going to be attending the ball with us!”

Soon the rest of his family followed their son in laughter. Harry felt his smile fade.

“You, boy, are to get clothes suitable for a servant. For it is only appropriate that we offer our services to help with the preparation for the ball itself. If you do attend the ball it will be solely for sweeping the food off the dance floor.”

Harry felt his stomach fall and cursed himself for ever raising his hopes for even thinking that they might consider him a part of the family rather than a part of the household staff. He blinked away the tears even as he pushed past the wooden door and into the streets. His family’s laughter still chasing him.

He returned home that night far later than anyone could have anticipated having opted to help the tailor take measurements from the admittedly daunting line of prospective customers preparing for the ball in three weeks’ time. He was sure that Madame Malkin was beyond thankful for having the gift as she swallowed at the sight of yet another customer walking in her door.

Worried that she seemed to be overtaxed as it was he requested only the fabric for his family’s outfits. She had taught him a great deal of her skills on his frequent trips to request a new dress for his aunt or a new suit jacket for his ever-expanding uncle and cousin. She eagerly accepted the offer and handed him the fabric at a fraction of the cost with only a note on the newest styles that his aunt would want, ignoring the fact they were all from flattering on her outrageously thin form.

So Harry had now only to figure out how to find the time to create the three fine outfits on top of his regular chores. Amazingly though, everything seemed to be going right for him in the days leading to the ball.

He focused on the roses and they seemed to bloom fuller with the slightest bit of water. When he went to brush the horses, the brushes seemed to move easier and faster, the dirt practically falling off their coats and leaving them gleaming. The coach that sat in the barn seemed to have the spiderwebs pulling off the dust, the seats unreasonably well-oiled rather than the cracked mess they should be after the years of disuse.

Even inside the fires seemed to stoke themselves and Harry watched as every stitch seemed to have the strength of two and the outfits seemed to all be perfectly cut and measured despite his small talents. The dress looked just as it did in Harry’s vision and in only a little more time than it would have taken the tailor. By some miracle Harry was actually able to get a full six hours of sleep one night.

He was amazed that everything seemed to be going so well and with his family’s ball clothes packed into their wardrobes the night before he was to leave for the palace he let himself fall into bed. His curtains through which the light usually woke him at dawn, shut tight against the moon’s rays.

He awoke to the sound of his aunt’s screams and he suddenly realized that he had forgotten the new outfit for himself. Panicking he saw the leftover scraps from the clothes intended for his cousin would be far from enough. Even if he had enough, he’d over slept as it was and there would never be enough time.

The door to the basement opened and Mrs. Weasley rushed down the stairs, “Thank Merlin!”

She hurriedly pulled him to his feet and clicked her tongue at the sight of him.

“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I overslept it’s just-.”

“No time, now. You’re to leave within the half-hour. I brought one of Ronnie’s outfits for you. I have no idea how you managed to sew those outfits in time.”

She attempted to brush him clean even as she started pulling his night clothes off his sweaty skin. But with every moment passed, the time of his departure edging closer and her time to cook dwindling, she seemed to grow more flustered. With a frown she looked to the basement door before turning back to the boy covered in soot.

“Needs must. I trust you won’t tell the Dursley’s about this.” Harry didn’t have a chance to ask what, not that he was intending to tell them anything the kind woman didn’t want them to know.

She pulled a slim stick from her apron and with a few whispered words the boy found himself dressed in a finer and more-fitting set of clothes than he had ever worn. Despite the fact they were easily four inches too long in the legs.

“Ah, I’d been afraid of that.”

The legs folded with another swish as they hemmed themselves. Harry stared at her in bewilderment, “You’re gifted!”

“Of course, there’s no way I could cook enough for this family otherwise.”

Harry let out a laugh and blushed self-consciously as he felt the ash fall from his face.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’ll care for the house while you’re gone. Enjoy the time away.”

“Thank you.” He trailed fingers down the worn fabric and was amazed at the lack of patches or holes.

Kind fingers reached out to grip his in a firm squeeze, “Go.”

He wrapped arms around her waist and nearly cried at the maternal kiss she placed upon his messy head of hair.

With a watery smile he scurried up the stairs and into the path of his aunt’s rampage.

“There you are! Get a move on will you. You’re expected in palace in under an hour. Take that old bay in the barn. The others are more than capable of pulling the carriage, perhaps they’ll keep him and we won’t have to waste the funds on feeding him.”

Harry bit his tongue in his haste to lock back the words. The horse was as sturdy as ever and was as loyal as any animal could be. Well unless you hit him with a stick. Harry turned away to hide the laugh that threatened to rise up at the memory of the bay turning and blaring at Dudley when the boy had tried to hit him a second time. Dudley had never looked more like a pig than he had in that moment.

Without further ado he gave Mrs. Figg a hug and asked her to try and remember to clean the living room curtains the next day. To which she only responded that she would never forget such a thing. Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed out the front door trying to anticipate how much work he would have to do to catch up when he did come back.

Assuming the royal family didn’t try to keep him that is.

Harry laughed at his wishful thinking as he saddled up the old bay and swung a leg over his back. With a nod to steel himself he clicked his tongue and off they went leaving the manor behind him. Harry almost wished that he could call this place home. But no matter how many years he’d spent within those walls…

He arrived at the palace gates a scant few minutes before he was expected and gave a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t necessarily have to expect a beating when he walked through the gates. He gave the bay a thankful pat as he unhooked his feet and slipped from the strong back. Then he went to stand by the servants’ entrance only to realize that he had absolutely no idea what to do from here. Was he supposed to knock? Did someone know to come for him? Would the gate be unlocked if he pushed on it?

Thankfully he was saved by another servant walking up the path, well he assumed it was a servant anyway.

“Hi there! You must be from one of the local households. My name is Hermione Granger, and you are?”

Harry went to answer but choked a little bit, probably on the ashes left over from sleeping by the furnace, “Sorry, cinders.”

Hermione frowned, “Cinders? That’s an interesting name, although I guess I can’t really say much can I? Oh well, come on, I’ll show you around and then we can go see Mrs. McGonagall. She’s the one who’s in charge of the ball preparation so we’ll want to see her pretty quick.”

A little overwhelmed by the overflow of information Harry totally forgot to correct his name and blinkingly took some of the packages out of Hermione’s grasp.

“Thank you!”

The girl continued to ramble asking him if he was gifted all the while informing him of her own studies and Harry was amazed he got a word in edgewise but began to just enjoy the theory of magic as he’d never be able to experience it himself.

oOo

“There you are, quickly now, we must get started on the cooking for our guests. They’ve invited Lord and Lady Malfoy, Lords and Lady Lestrange, and – oh, I’m sorry who are you, dear boy?”

Harry gave a slight bow but was cut off from his own introduction when Hermione decided to help, “This is Cinders! He’s been most kind in helping me carry the shopping inside. He’s from the…”

All of the sudden she seemed to realize she didn’t actually know which household he was from, “The Dursley’s sent me but-.”

Mrs. McGonagall frowned, “I don’t remember that name on my list, ah well. Let’s get to it then, I’ll have you start cleaning and airing the rugs in the entrance hall. I assume you know not to converse with our guests or the royal family.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Good, carry on and when they’re clean come find me and we’ll find another task in need of doing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He blinked but was actually rather pleased that he was being put to work rather than waiting around like Ron always insisted was the case.

So Harry went to work, surprisingly the rugs were not really as heavy as they looked and Harry was able to drag them out by himself and get them beaten out. Then it took only a few more minutes to get it wiped down with a damp cloth until the fibers were practically shining. It looked about as clean as Harry imagined it had before the age had set in.

Within the hour Harry had been able to scrub the floors and then he took the time to wipe down the walls where it seemed people had been running dirty fingers since the last ball. Soon enough the rugs were dry and he was able to bring the rugs back inside without dragging them through anymore dirt.

With the first project done he headed back towards the kitchens running into a sour looking older man with a hook like nose.

“You are new here. Who are you.”

There was no question in the voice but Harry answered anyway slightly concerned that this man was going to strangle him, “I’m here to help with the ball.”

“Ah yes, Mrs. McGonagall mentioned you, _Cinders_, if I care to recall. You were given an assignment already, were you not?” The words were practically a dare against any correction. His eyes just daring to glimpse his scant frame over the bridge of the prominent nose between them.

“Yes, sir, but I was to report back to the kitchens when I finished.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, “And you decided to just take an unsolicited break in the meantime I suppose?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I-.”

“We do not allow dunderheads or laziness in this castle, Mr. Cinders. As such we shall have to analyze your work and report back to your Master regarding your behavior today.”

The young boy could tell that this man was as willing to listen to him as his aunt and uncle were, which meant to say not at all. So instead of protesting his relationship to the Dursleys (he would never refer to the man as his master. He did not even want to refer to him as ‘uncle’ a majority of the time) he followed along silently and waited for his work to be critiqued. Aunt Petunia did the same thing, no matter how long or hard Harry worked there was always something not done correctly.

“You were to clean the rugs, is that correct?”

Harry nodded as the man walked forward and, using the white kerchief from his pocket, ran a soft cloth against the fibers searching for a speck of dust. Harry watched as he frowned at the white kerchief and could just imagine him analyzing the few specks of dirt Harry had left behind. Then he did the same on the floors, and tested the doorframe, knobs, and every other surface in the entrance hall.

The boy startled when the man turned an intense gaze upon him and soon the man’s long fingers gripped his shoulder painfully and shoved him down the halls towards the kitchens.

“The boy has finished his tasks. Set him to preparing the guest rooms and I will then like to speak with you, Minerva.”

Mrs. McGonagall frowned at Harry in much the same way the hook-nosed man had, “He’s finished you say? And you found it acceptable?”

The man gave a head raise that seemed to be neither acceptance nor rejection and merely intoned, “Passable.”

Mrs. McGonagall nodded her eyes suddenly wide before narrowing, “Miss Granger. Please take Mister Cinders to the guest rooms. He shall be cleaning the Green Room-.”

The man cut in with a shake of his head, “I believe he would do better in the Snow Room.”

Mrs. McGonagall started, “…very well. The Snow Room then. Please show him where all of the supplies are.”

Hermione nodded obviously shocked by the turn of events, but Harry had absolutely no idea what had upset these people so greatly. Hermione nonetheless led the way from the kitchen to the servant’s stairs and soon enough they found themselves entering a small hallway that Harry suspected ran the length of the wing alongside the rooms. Hermione paused, “I don’t know why you’re being given this room. But it is the most important guest room in the castle. This is where the visiting royalty stay, the one the prince places in the highest regard. More than likely this room will be occupied by our future king or queen.”

Harry swallowed, that did not seem like a room a visiting servant should be trusted with. What was going on in this place.

“This is a test of something. I would suggest not failing. Supplies are found in the closet and in the dumbwaiter at the end of the hall by the stairs. The first bucket has been filled for you most likely, but you will have to change it when it becomes unusable. Make sure to freshen the sheets and fluff the pillows. The carpets need to be spotless, the draperies cleaned and checked, the wardrobe aired out, the personal bath scrubbed, and everything needs to be dusted.”

Harry frowned, “This has to be a three-person job at least.”

Hermione shrugged, “Usually it’s done by Mrs. McGonagall. She is the best at perfecting everything to standard. Asking her to give it to you means something…”

She frowned as though the answer was right there but she just could not quite figure it out.

Harry could not really care less at the moment though, this room was going to take hours to clean and he had no time to spare for pointless thoughts. He frowned as he looked at the small bucket and semi-warm water. He shook off the worry and rolled up his sleeves.

At least he didn’t have to take time to dump the water outside and then travel to the well every time it got dirty.

****

****

“Are you certain this is wise, Severus?”

The dour man gave a small headshake, “The only thing I am certain of in this moment is that the boy is lying. Whether it is about his identity or the gift. This is merely a test to see how much his blood has been diluted.”

McGonagall pursed her lips, “If what you’re saying is true, he may-.”

“I agree, Minerva. Which is why we _need_ to be absolutely certain.”

Both watched in silence waiting for the boy to come change out the water. When the boy did not…. Severus made his way to the room while Mrs. McGonagall made her way to the throne room and their king, Marvolo Gaunt.

She knocked on the door gently, listening carefully for the quiet whisper of the elderly king’s voice. With a nod at a perceived answer Minerva made her way into the room and gave the deepest curtsey her aging knees would allow her.

When she did raise her eyes, she took in the elderly man and his likely still angered son-in-law who stood aside from the throne. The young Riddle man had married into the Gaunt family believing he would gain status and power. His mother possessed the gift of Sight and had foreseen him seated on the throne. As such he had eagerly returned the affections of the young Merope.

But the King could not allow one from common blood to take his throne. For his daughter had wedded the wealthiest man she could but he had not a stitch of the gift. The man’s mother lived barely long enough to foresee the exact copy of her son in the form of her grandson. Merope had died giving birth to the child and Gaunt would have thrown them both out, but the young Morfin had succumbed to insanity mere weeks before which meant unless Marvolo miraculously conceived another heir the throne would pass to his grandson.

The young boy, who had been given his father’s name (despite his grandfather’s attempts otherwise), was proud, smart, and aloof. Likely due to the fact the only ones to speak to him were the servants. He was not to be seen and Minerva suspected that he was tucked away in the library avoiding the pressures of his family and the upcoming ball.

“Your Highness, we believe we might have discovered a truly gifted one.”

The elderly king sat eagerly forward, “An old family name then?”

Minerva slowly shook her head, “No, it’s from one of the servants of the lords sent to _assist_ us in our preparations.”

The man sat back with a sigh, “It is no matter then, just another who desires the status of being gifted.”

“Your Highness, I-.”

“Leave.”

Pursing her lips, the woman never less nodded before making her way back out the door from which she had entered. The king would not be assuaged without facts. They needed to prove that the boy had the old magic and there was only one way to do it. She nodded to herself and couldn’t help but be thankful that the ball was still a day away.

****

****

Harry worked on the Snow Room until well into the afternoon, opting to skip his afternoon meal in an attempt to get farther than he had. But finally, it was done. The carpets were practically glowing with their white threads, the bed looked positively divine (Harry wanted nothing more than to lay amongst the fluffed quilts and pillows but refrained knowing that he’d have to start again), and the windows were spotless as the sunshine radiated through the room.

Confident that he had done all he could for the room and feeling like he still had some time before anyone could expect him to move onto his next task, Harry moved back to the servants’ hall and made his way down the turning corridor opening doors occasionally to see what’s going on behind them. He’d always loved exploring but the last decade had revealed all of the secrets of the manor in which he lived. The castle though, the castle he was sure he could move through the rest of his days and still make discoveries.

Which is how he stumbled across the library. Or the top floor of it. Seriously they had a balcony that encircled the top floor of their two-story library. This was the kind of place Harry had only ever read about in stolen books, he’d never been more thankful that he’d had to clean up after Dudley than during his tutor’s visits, which left him free to listen in on the lessons and learn while he absently picked up plates and broken toys. He wiped his hair away from his forehead before attempting to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. Leaving black streaks along his sides from the blacking he used in the fireplace.

He gave a sigh as he realized he very likely had just smeared the blacking across his face. He wasn’t going to be able to touch any of the books in here either. And he probably needed to go clean every single door he’d touched since leaving the white room….

So much for sneaking away for a few more minutes. He was going to disappear through the hallway again. But… since he was already here it wouldn’t be that bad to take a look. So long as he didn’t touch anything, it would be fine. A quick glance at the titles almost had him squealing as he took in the magical history section right next to magical lore and magical beasts.

He hadn’t made it halfway down the first row before a voice from behind him nearly sent him tumbling over the rail and to the floor below.

“I thought you’d have left by now.”

Harry barely chocked back a curse as he remembered where he was. Refusing to turn around he shook his head slightly and hunched over, hoping in vain that the other man would leave.

“My apologies I was merely lost on my way to the kitchens.”

A delicate snort was his response, “I very much doubt that. Regardless there is an understanding that this room is to be empty at this time.”

“I’m sorry, I was uninformed. Although I have to admit it’s strange that you are here to catch me if it’s supposed to be empty.” He could have bitten his own tongue as his mouth ran away from him. This man could be anyone and Harry had no idea, but it was guaranteed that he stood higher on the totem pole than a visiting servant.

Harry winced a little and turned around ready to apologize, he really needed to learn to curb his tongue at times. But his apology (feeble as it may have been) was cut off by the sound of a faintly amused chuckle. A chuckle that fell from an amazingly beautiful face. Warm eyes, dark brown set over stunning cheekbones, thick black hair that seemed to almost fall into perfect waves around his face before the length was gathered at the nape of his elegant neck.

“I have a feeling you don’t know who I am then?”

Harry shook his head at the question trying to jump start his brain, “Sorry, am I supposed to?”

The young man shrugged, “Most do. Leave it to say that it’s usually empty because I’m here.”

Harry frowned, “That’s sad. Don’t you get lonely?”

Harry watched as the older boy’s interested smile twisted into a full-blown smirk.

“I might, but most people don’t concern themselves with that. So long as I look nice and act polite it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Of course, it does! No one should feel sad or lonely. It’s miserable and frightful way to pass the time, I should know!”

The man’s smirk softened, “Are you lonely too then?”

Harry shrugged and blushed at his sudden words. He brushed his hair out of his face again as his eyes fell to the floor and his shoes softly pushed the soft hairs of the rug side-to-side.

“I might be, but it’s not as bad as all that. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

The older boy frowned openly at that, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t see many people but then I get a chance to work on all of my chores and I get plenty of time to myself. And Mrs. Weasley, she’s our cook, makes the best breakfast anyone could hope for!”

“Why are you here then?”

“My family thought it would be good to donate help for the prince’s party. They aren’t able to afford any gifts you see, or at least nothing suitable for a prince.”

The boy closed his eyes and face turned slightly away as a muscle twitched in his jaw, “So they can afford at least two servants and yet they couldn’t think of a better gift than to ship you here?”

“Well they can’t pay me, I don’t think they pay Mrs. Figg either to be honest. But she gets free room and board. Mrs. Weasley gets some though, because she has so many children, you see.”

“No, I don’t see. How can they get away without paying you? It’s wrong, especially since they obviously overwork you as well, look how thin you are!”

“It’s how I earn my keep, they keep me in room and board, you see. And well, Mrs. Figg is too tired now and she sometimes forgets to turn down the sheets, so I help her with her chores because otherwise they’d throw her out and-!” Suddenly his eyes widened, “Oh please! You can’t tell anyone, she doesn’t have anywhere to go and it’s not that bad, I swear!”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose, holding up his other hand palm out to stop the flood of words, “I won’t tell anyone, but you should. They send extra help to households that need it, remember?”

He shrugged, “My family’s too proud, plus we do okay, really!”

The boy seemed ready to protest again but Harry suddenly remembered that he had some doors to clean off still, “I’m sorry I have to go, but it was great talking to you!”

With that Harry practically ran from the library and was amazed at how fast he managed to get through the servant’s entrance and into the back hallway. The door shut behind him as he barely registered the voice echoing behind him.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

oOo

Harry came breathless into the kitchens, an apology on his lips but was cut off by three shocked faces.

“I’m sorry I took so long, I’m afraid I got a little distracted.”

Hermione frowned, “You’re finished? But Mrs. McGonagall-.”

“Silence. Very well, Mr. Cinders, if you are certain you are finished, you would not mind showing us your work.” The dark man seemed to cower the entire room with his voice. If Harry didn’t know better, he’d assume this man was in the royal family.

Harry shook his head, not at all surprised that they’d want to inspect his work since it seemed like such an important room.

Hermione still looked slightly flabbergasted and her cheeks were reddened by the reprimand of the dark-haired man, who Harry was pretty sure he _still_ hadn’t heard the name of…

He followed them up the stairs and winced slightly when he saw the small puddle of dirty water that had fallen onto the stairs. He might get beaten for that, at home something like that usually meant a day and night in the basement without food and having to catch up on everything the next day.

Maybe they’d be nicer here? He scoffed at the thought, this was the royal family he’d be lucky if he wasn’t flogged. Then again these were the servants’ stairs so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad?

He ducked his head and tried to avoid seeing any other spots where he might have dripped on his way and meekly followed the others up the stairs and to the room. He couldn’t believe no one had yelled at him yet for that. Still he figured if he kept his head down maybe they’d forget about it?

With any luck he would have made something wrong in the room and it would make them forget about the water on the stairs. Just a small mistake though…

He waited in the hallway as they walked in, his hands were still dirty and he couldn’t imagine the trouble he would get in if he managed to get a black handprint on the white draperies. He watched as McGonagall and the man (seriously did he not have a name?!) took in every detail of the room. Then he watched as they both shared a raised eyebrow in a glance and turned back to back. They raise their wands and cast. Harry watched as the whole room began to glow with green sparkles.

They seemed to hover above every surface just floating there, and Harry had the momentary terror that if they were to touch the surface the sparkles would _never_ come out. Just as soon as he though it everything disappeared.

Hermione whirled on him eyes blazing and Harry took an involuntary step back from her anger.

“I thought you said you _didn’t_ _have_ magic!”

Harry blinked, “I don’t. My family are all muggles. I can’t be gifted. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

He turned to the two others in the room, looking for help and he suddenly found himself falling back into random memories. Walking through their home, tending the garden, talking to a snake, cleaning the house, laying in his room, and who knows what he was doing in that last one. Just a series of moments that seemed to mean nothing to Harry.

Then all of the sudden he found himself sitting in his old cupboard listening in to the conversation when he finally learned the truth about his parents and his aunt and uncle and there was no way he wanted to listen to that again.

“Stop!” The sudden shout startled Harry and he found himself sitting on the ground staring up at three faces, one shocked, one calculating, and one seemingly confused.

He rubbed at his temples before blinking slowly, “That was so weird…”

“That, Mr. Cinders is perhaps the most educated statement I have heard from you.”

McGonagall actually gave him a small smile, “Well this is a most wonderful day! It seems that though magic may have skipped some of your family you have truly old magic in your bones. I do believe that we shall call your family up instantly and-.”

“No! Please, please,” Harry was suddenly terrified of everything that could happen.

If he really did have magic, and let’s face it Harry would not be living with his aunt and uncle if that were the case, his family would kill him. They would reject him. He would no longer be able to live in safety. Granted it wasn’t a nice place, but he got fed and he got to see his friends and everything.

“I don’t… I can’t…I’m not… No.”

Suddenly there were arms wrapped around him and Harry fell unhesitant into the woman. The hug reminding him so much of the brief reprieve this morning with Mrs. Weasley.

“What have you done to upset this boy so?”

McGonagall actually sounded distraught as she replied to the scolding tone, “I promise, Poppy, this was not our intention. We assumed it would be exciting news.”

“Exciting it was. Would you like a rest, child?”

Harry shook his head and pulled himself from the embrace, welcoming as it was. He took a steadying breath and shook off the excitement.

“I’d rather get back to work, please. Is there something else I can help with?”

The woman who had been holding him shook her head, “You shouldn’t be working. I can see from here that you are overworked and exhausted. When was the last time you ate, child?”

He frowned, “It was my fault. I worked through lunch.”

“I do not believe you answered the question.”

Harry flinched at the cold man’s voice, “I… I’m not sure how to answer, sir.”

“A truthful answer would be most appreciated.” The new woman gave a gentle smile despite her firm tone, but Harry still didn’t know what to say.

The boy shrugged and turned away, double checking his work with the black which he still had not gotten off his hands. He frowned and looked down, but his chin was caught between two fingers and directed up to meet Mrs. McGonagall’s warm eyes.

“When was the last time you ate, Mr. Cinders?”

“I… I had some of the vegetables from the garden. But not a lot is growing right now.”

The tall man stepped forward, “I believe we are asking about your last proper meal. A plate of food.”

Harry shook his head, “There’s-I mean- please? I don’t know…”

His breaths felt heavy as he took in the disbelieving and angry stares. They thought he was lying. They were going to tell the Dursleys and that would be as bad as having the gift. Or worse…He couldn’t breathe, how could they just stand there? Didn’t they notice the blackness drifting through the air? His eyes rolled back, and Harry barely felt hands reaching for him as he realized he wasn’t standing anymore.

*****

*****

Harry woke up on a small cot, in a small room, behind a small curtain. Beyond it he could see the natural light and make out the sounds of the kitchen.

He did his best to tidy the sheets on the cot and snuck out from behind the curtain and came face to face with the comforting woman from before.

“Oh, hello dear. I’m Madame Pomfrey. I’m in charge of keeping people healthy here in the castle. I was just coming to check on you.”

Harry nodded and let himself be herded back into the room by the caring hand. She pulled out a slim stick and Harry was surprised to find yet another gifted person in the castle.

“I’m just going to check and see how you’re doing, okay?”

He shrugged and soon the stick was waving and Madame Pomfrey was referencing a parchment in her hand and the sparks drifting around him. She nodded once to herself making a note before continuing her exam and Harry watched as her smile grew a little more forced with every mark that decorated her parchment.

Eventually she got up with only a pat on his arm and a request that he eat the food he’d been given. He was suddenly aware of the full plate beside him. A bowl of soup, a slice of bread and a glass of juice! He took as much time as he dared to enjoy the meal, wanting to make sure he ate as much as he could before it was taken. Even so it was not long until the thought of another bite sent panic through his stomach.

Reluctantly, he set his spoon down and allowed the moment to settle. He waited patiently for someone to come and tell him what to do. He took the time to make sure his bag was packed, the extra set of clothes he’d brought just in case still folded nicely along with Dudley’s schooling books he was working through.

He figured they’d given him a nice meal to make up for the embarrassment there was going to be when they sent him home. It was a nice thought, especially since he highly doubted there was going to be a meal waiting for him.

Harry groaned at the thought of his embarrassment. He had been hoping to perhaps be invited to stay permanently, as unlikely as that was. And then what does he do? He gets blackening all over the servants’ hall, spilled water on the stairs, insulted a person who was probably a guest, and passed out. He’d put them through so much work when he was supposed to be lessening their loads.

There was a long moment spent imagining that they were going to offer for him to stay here. That maybe they’d felt pity for the little servant who tried. But that was all gone when he took note of the serious faces that crossed the curtain. The serious man, Mrs. McGonagall, and Madame Pomfrey all appeared before him. And he sighed.

“I’m ready to go back.”

Apparently, that was not the response they were expecting, “Excuse me?”

“You’re sending me back because I’m too much trouble, right?”

The man shook his head, “We are not at leave to reject any assistance sent our way. Your lack of energy causes us to take you away from your original duties. As many of the guests are arriving as we speak you shall be assisting one of our guests who always fails to bring a servant of his own. Miss Granger typically assists him. However, she has been specifically requested to assist one of the other guests.”

Harry blinked for a long moment, how was it that dark haired man made that sound like a punishment? Even Harry knew that being a personal assistant for a guest was actually a huge responsibility. But they were just going to trust him? He didn’t even know what to do when being a personal servant to a guest.

The older woman stepped in, “Miss Granger is currently meeting her guest upstairs. You are going to shadow her until your guest arrives.”

Harry swallowed and set his bag down once again. McGonagall caught him with a single hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to do fine and if you do make a mistake this guest is likely not going to even notice. He’s very laid back however he is from a prestigious family. Just take this time to relax a little, alright?”

The small teen blinked, not really sure how to take her words. Was this a trick?

She cleared her throat, pulling her hand back and schooling her features back into a commanding expression.

“Miss Granger is expecting you, Mr. Cinders. Hurry now.”

Shaggy hair shook as the boy nodded scurrying off to the entrance hall where he hoped he’d find the girl, “Yes, ma’am.”

oOo

The boy who’d requested Hermione was a lot younger than Harry suspected. He’d guess that he was about their age. He found from listening that his parents were arriving soon as well, but the blond boy had wanted to attend this celebration separately, hence his request for the girl.

Harry was mostly intrigued by the way they talked to each other. Hermione seemed determined to maintain an appropriate distance, and the blond seemed the same but almost excessively? It was like he was goading her to see if she would break propriety. Hermione was good though, she avoided all of the other boy’s tricks with an elegance, she seemed to enjoy disappointing the blond.

She tapped him on the shoulder as they were heading to the kitchen to get hot water for the young aristocrat’s bath. She pointed towards a man entering the palace with shoulder length brown hair and a beard that appeared to be more from a lack of desire to shave than a statement. But what caught Harry’s attention were his warm grey eyes and the obvious laughter in his expression.

“That’s Sirius Black, he hates being called Lord Black but that’s what you should address his as first, then he’ll tell you what to call him. Wait until he’s done speaking to the Longbottom’s and then you can introduce yourself and take him to his room. He’s staying in the gold room, it’s three doors past the grey room that Draco’s in.”

Harry nodded before blinking and smirking slightly at the girl’s slip, “Draco?”

He felt the side of his mouth lift further as the blush colored Hermione’s cheeks, “Shut up.”

He laughed as she scurried off and found a shadowed corner to wait until Lord Black made to leave the Longbottom’s.

It was several long minutes before Lord Longbottom excused himself, his wife, and his son to freshen up before the dinner tonight. The boy reminded Harry of the textbook definition of perfection. He was gorgeous but looked as though it was a rather new reality and as such he was still quiet and in the background. Harry thought he and the boy could have been good friends. Perhaps if it wasn’t for the voice of his uncle ringing through his ears, they could have been closer than that.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden voice by his ear, “And hear I thought you were supposed to be catering to my every whim. Can’t blame you for being intrigued though. That Neville is growing into a fine young man.”

He found himself nearly falling as he struggled to look at the source of the warm voice, he barely noticed the grey eyes were even warmer up close before he dropped his gaze back to the ground. He nodded his head in a careful bow before speaking.

“Lord Black! I apologize I seem to have been lost in my thoughts. I’m supposed to be escorting you to your rooms for the duration of your stay.”

“Please, call me Sirius. I hate being called the Lord anything. Never did like the last Lord Black so I’d rather avoid the title. Did they put me in the grey room again? They usually do, it’s one of the colors in my family crest, supposed to make you feel more at home or something but it’s just ridiculous if you ask me.”

“Umm… actually I’ve been told to show you to the gold room? The grey room is already in use…”

The older man practically started vibrating in excitement at the news, “Wonderful! I haven’t been inside that room in ages. Lead on!”

Harry couldn’t hold back his grin at Sirius’ excitement, “Yes, sir.”

oOo

The temporary servant was in constant motion from that point on. It wasn’t hard work, per say, but Sirius was a hard person to help. Harry found himself constantly trying to anticipate the Black lord’s wishes in the hopes that he might actually let Harry do his job.

Unfortunately, some concessions had to be made. So while Sirius poured his own drink Harry scrambled to pull out the nice robes for the evening meal, put the rest of the man’s robes away and begin polishing the shoes he’d be wearing while they sat at dinner.

Although why they needed to be polished when they would only be seen by the bottom of the table was beyond Harry. Still he was determined that they would find no fault with his service of his Lord. The man was in the middle of a monologue concerning some childhood escapades with his dear friends when he suddenly trailed off.

“I miss my dear friends… Moony, Wormtail, Lilypad, and Prongs. They all seemed to have trickled off one by one. Moony is still around but we only see each other occasionally. Wormtail went mad though. Went off on a rampage concerning a rising lord and ultimate reward. Prongs paid the price. He was killed trying to protect his son, wife, and his friend. Lilypad then died trying to save her son. They say that it was her dying scream that shook Wormtail back into reality. He turned his wand on himself upon seeing the bodies of his friends.

“Their son, the little Prongslet, he survived but was taken. Carted off only moments after his parent’s deaths. No one knows where he went. I think it was the fault of whoever poisoned Wormtail. For whatever reason they wanted the child and he was gone. I spent years looking but I could never find him…” He glanced over at the boy polishing his shoes, “I always thought he’d look a bit like you actually, Prongs’ ne’er-do-well hair and Lilypad’s eyes.”

Suddenly he cleared his throat, “I believe I may have had a tad too much to drink already. How long until dinner?”

“It’s in an hour, sir. Refreshments and _hors d’oeuvres_ will be served at any moment.”

One nod and the man pulled his wand from his pocket clearing the evidence of his trip to the past and the sleepless night from his eyes. Harry pulled his hair back in an elegant sweep and the man was off.

“You need not wait for me. Just set the fire and I’ll handle myself.”

Harry nodded but agreed to nothing. He fully intended to be waiting right here when the man returned. But he should probably get something from the kitchen, perhaps they would allow him to finish his soup from earlier?

Green eyes scanned the room and seeing nothing out of place he hurried from the room and into the servants’ hall. Which is where he found himself suddenly under a giant pile of fine cloth and a flustered Hermione.

“Thank God! You have to help me. Draco needs these repaired and I can do the charm, but I’ve only ever practiced it in a mirror on my clothes! I can’t mess up and…”

The smaller boy flinched away slightly as her hands flew through the air attempting to highlight what a big problem this was.

He caught her hands as they attempted to knock his glasses off again, “Hermione! It’s okay, what do you need? How can I help?”

“Can you put on these robes?”

Okay he wasn’t sure where he thought this was headed, but that wasn’t it, “I’m sorry?”

“The only charm I know is one that’s for like last-minute fixes, which means someone is wearing them, please?”

The small boy shook his head, “I can’t be seen wearing something like that. I could get in huge trouble…”

“It’ll only be a moment, I promise. Just, please? I need… I just need your help.”

The teen chewed his lip it was definitely not allowed for him, Orphan Harry, a nobody to put on a Lord’s robes. He could be in huge trouble if he gave in. But Hermione had been so nice (if a little touchy) since he arrived and she seemed to really want to impress the young lord in training…

“Alright, but only for a few seconds!”

She squealed clapping her hands once before throwing her arms around him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Here.”

Harry followed obediently as she led him down just one more room, “This one’s empty until tomorrow. You change and I’ll be right back, I left my wand in the kitchen. I’ll be right back!”

She was gone, muttering some bizarre words as the door clicked shut behind her. Harry cursed his inability to refuse anyone as he laid the fine clothes onto the light blue spread. Glancing down at his dirtied fingers he realized his face was probably the same and putting on silk robes was bad enough without dirtying them as well.

He let his eyes trace the room, settling on the basin upon the bureau. He ran his fingers through his hair, undecided, but when they came out greying with dust he winced and made up his mind. One mental reminder to change the water the next morning and Harry dropped his hands in only to yank them out a moment later.

He stared in disbelief as he lowered his hands in once again. The water was hot. As if someone had pulled it off the fire not two minutes ago.

“I love magic…”

Harry rushed through the rest of the washing. Scrubbing the ash and sweat off his skin and shaking the dust off his hair. He wet it down, attempting to tame the nest. Eventually he felt good enough to reach again for the robes. He was careful as he pulled on the delicate fabric, his motions slow but steady as he dressed. Long moments passed before the robes were draped carefully over his shoulders.

Which begged the question, where exactly was Hermione? She was only going to the kitchen after all. Unless she got caught up in something else…

The dark-haired servant found his mind racing. There were so many things that could go wrong. What if McGonagall needed to talk with her. What if Draco saw her and ordered her to do something else. What if Sirius was looking for him to help with something

The teen shook his head, no. Nothing was going to go wrong. He just needed to stay calm and wait patiently. The wall would be opening any second.

Which was when he heard the click of the latch. He felt the tension leave his shoulders and he let out the breath. He smiled at the wall.

Which was when he realized the wall wasn’t opening. The door behind him was, not the hidden door to the servants’ hall. The door to the rest of the palace. Panicked green eyes lit around the room desperately hoping for an escape, but he knew from experience that trying to hide only postponed the punishment, at best. Typically, it made everything worse.

With a deep breath he turned to face his judgement which was when he recognized the brown eyes which landed upon him. It was the young man from the library.

The boy frowned seemingly trying to understand this sudden change in his plans, “My apologies, I was under the opinion that this room was empty until tomorrow.”

Harry blushed, “I am under the same belief. I- I was looking for somewhere private for a moment. I suspect my friend will be coming to find me shortly.”

The boy nodded, “Are you here for the outrageous party they’re throwing?”

“Technically, yes. I was sent here for the Prince’s birthday celebration.”

“The Prince’s?” The boy’s frown was confused and slightly amused.

“…Yes?”

“My name is Tom.”

Harry blinked at the sudden introduction, “Er…hello? I’d give you my name, but I’ve been given so many the past few days I am not quite sure which to share.”

The warmest smile appeared then, and Harry couldn’t help returning it, thinking that this boy was amazingly even more attractive than Heir Longbottom, “I actually understand that. Would you mind accompanying me to the meal?”

“I should wait for my friend, as I said she’ll be looking for me soon enough. It was wonderful to meet you though.”

The boy’s- Tom’s expression went from slightly confused to absolutely gob-smacked in two seconds flat. Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable, almost guilty, with the way Tom looked at him as if he just admitted to seeing a unicorn in a garbage heap.

So he gave a tight smile and looked subtly at the slightly opened door behind Tom. The gob-smacked look faded slowly into wry amusement once again.

“It would be quite rude of you to forget your friend. I will be seeing both of you later, perhaps?”

Harry blinked, not really sure why the older boy would care but gave a slight nod. He’d seen the boy before so it wasn’t unlikely that they would see each other again. Although seeing as he seemed to think Harry was actually a guest here that didn’t actually seem to be all that likely. He wondered if Tom had any idea that this supposed guest was actually the servant who’d been caught in the library.

He thought back to his blackening smeared face and the way his hair had seemed almost grey this morning. There was no way the boy would connect the two and for that Harry decided to be grateful.

Suddenly though he recalled their meeting and the few words they’d shared before Harry had needed to run. _‘Are you lonely too, then?’_

It must be so sad to be in a castle like this and not have anyone. Perhaps Harry could make it back to the library tomorrow? The boy said he was usually there, that might be the perfect time to say hello and rectify any poor conclusions that might have come up.

He was spared from any further trouble when the wall behind him opened up to reveal a flushed Hermione.

“Sorry! Mister Snape wanted me to bring a tea service to the Lestranges. I don’t know why, they’re serving refreshments already but you know nobles. Let’s get this fixed now, shall we?”

But once again Harry just let himself drift through her words as she did what she needed. Hermione had already proven she didn’t actually need another person to have a conversation after all.

All in all, Harry figured he’d been in those robes for fifteen minutes when he finally got the chance to take them off and made Hermione clean them just in case. The girl had rolled her eyes but cast her perfect freshening charm she had bragged about before rushing off to the grey room and leaving Harry to finally make his way to the kitchens.

He hadn’t made it a step in when he was being gently shoved into a chair and told to eat while he could. There was someone keeping an eye on the guests who would inform them if Lord Black left, giving Harry enough time to return to the rooms.

The boy felt bad as he watched everyone still running around prepping for tomorrow’s ball. But when he’d tried to stand up, Mister Snape had appeared and told him he was serving as a taste tester for the feast and he was not to move until every course had been sampled.

Harry had only frowned at that before continuing, these people checked for problems with magic. Why would they need a taste tester for poison when they had the gift?

He shook his head, Mister Snape was confusing. Maybe he wasn’t as mean as he seemed? Was he trying to be nice to the little servant boy? No. Harry refused to think that. He was probably just keeping him out of the way in case he messed up again.

Just as Harry finished the last course a blue hare appeared out of nowhere and spoke to McGonagall. Harry couldn’t help but stare.

“The meal is finished, and some are returning to their rooms. As usual Lord Black is leading the retreat.”

“Very well, Mr. Cinders. You may now return. Be sure to be here early to eat before Lord Black arises.”

Harry could only nod as he made his way to the hidden stairs. What kind of people insisted on servants eating three times a day? Was this a trap?

His thoughts wondered over the possible tricks that could be lying in wait as he helped the Lord to undress and ready himself for bed. Happily brushing the older man’s hair when he admitted that the one thing he missed most was people brushing his hair for him. And helping Sirius into bed still telling stories of these absent friends of his.

Regardless, Harry thought as he doused the lights in Sirius’ room, he would enjoy it while he could and expect nothing but bad news. This way they wouldn’t catch him, but he could enjoy the full stomach until after the ball. It was only four more days after all, he could put up with it until then.

He sighed, he only hoped his stomach didn’t get used to eating so much again. That would only make going back all the harder.

Harry took one glance back at the sleeping Lord and gave a slight smile as a light snore filled the room. At least someone would have no trouble sleeping tonight. He shut the servant’s door and disappeared down the hall.

Taking the little cot that had been named his for his stay, Harry pulled up the soft sheets and stretched. He’d have to be up about half-an-hour before dawn, but that still left him about six hours of sleep. A boy could really get used to this kind of work. His last thought before he went to bed was caught on the young man he’d met in the library. Was he having a good sleep tonight?

*****

*****


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is the first day of the ball...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry if you've read this before. Edit on 2/25/2020 split the first chapter in two because 46 pages is way too long for one chapter.

Harry’s internal alarm woke him in plenty of time. He hurried to the water jug and scrubbed himself clean before slipping back into his carefully folded clothes from the day before. He hoped that Hermione would be able to get some of the blacking off of the knees, he’d hate to send it back to Mrs. Weasley this way. Then again she could probably get the stain out herself.

His thoughts raced around the two women who helped him with the Dursley’s home and he couldn’t help but hope that they were both doing alright. Maybe Mrs. Weasley had been able to bring in Ginevra to help, then it wouldn’t be so bad, although it was a lot of work for her.

Of course, thoughts of Mrs. Weasely and Mrs. Figg were pushed to the side when a familiar throat cleared behind him. He blushed as he stepped away from the water jug but was met only by a gentle smile and a hand on his shoulder directing him to breakfast. He had no more sat down, he was slightly proud that he was the first one there, then Mrs. McGonagall began to rattle off his duties and the outline for the day. Harry couldn’t help but be grateful that he had gotten so much sleep the night before as he realized he would have no time to himself until likely 3 o’clock.

“Alright, so today is going to be a little different than yesterday. Lord Black is notorious for sleeping in and lounging so you will be put to work first on checking his rooms, laying out something appropriate, and then you will be sent to help with the preparations for the actual ball tonight. You will be in the gardens, Mrs. Sprout will be guiding you. It will mostly be pruning and watering.

“Approximately at ten you will be sent back to Lord Black to help him prepare for lunch: bathing, changing, etcetera. You will guide him there, assist him and the others as necessary and then accompany Lord Black to his rooms. At two you will return here for a light lunch. I suggest grabbing an apple or similar to hold over any cravings until then.

“The ball tonight will begin with a dinner which Lord Black will likely not attend, leaving you free to tend to him. Dancing will begin at 7 and Lord Black will most assuredly appear around 8 o’clock. You will attend to his every need until that time, remember there is nothing unavailable to him. Should you be uncertain find myself or Mr. Snape and we will make it happen. The ball will continue until 2 o’clock tomorrow morning, during that time you will be expected to take a short break to enjoy your own dinner before assisting with the guests. Following the closing of the night, you shall be expected to grab a light snack before returning to bed after assisting Lord Black. Tomorrow will begin at the same time. Questions?”

Harry swallowed the last of his food before nodding, “Could you tell me where the gardens are? I could get started now.”

She shook her head, “Sprout shall be here within moments, you shall be accompanied by a few others.”

In truth it was long minutes, nearly a half hour after Harry had finished Sirius’ rooms, before the woman showed. But Harry decided to appreciate the few moments, the only difficulty he found was in finding Hermione, the young woman had apparently been up incredibly early to handle the Heir Malfoy’s needs. Still he managed to speak with a young Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnegan who had apparently been brought to assist with the Lord and Lady Malfoy only the day before.

When Mrs. Sprout did appear, it was in a rush from then out. Harry, once Mrs. Sprout discovered he actually was decent at gardening, was given some of the more delicate tasks in trimming and hedging. A definite step up from fertilizer and weeding. It was not long before he was racing around in the gardens with other random tasks: cleaning the fountains, polishing the marble gazebo, fluffing cushions, and planting some new flowering plants to help prepare for the night. The helpers were kept moving until a flustered Hermione came rushing down the steps.

“Cinders! Mister Snape and Mrs. McGonagall are searching for you. Lord Black requested your assistance ten minutes ago.”

Harry paled and took only the time necessary to leave the trowel with Mrs. Sprout before he was rushing to the servant stairs and racing to the back door of Sirius’ room. He took a calming breath and opened the door, thankfully Lord Black was not in the sitting area. He stoked the fire for a few moments and straightened another few things before announcing his arrival.

“Lord Black? How might I be of assistance to you?”

The man’s voice came from his bathing room and he peeked his head around the door with a big smile. He walked into the room in his dressing gown and gave a small shake of his head, like it wasn’t a big deal that he had waited for Harry for twenty minutes.

“It’s ‘Sirius,’ remember? And I was only hoping for a bath, conjured water is never quite as good as the real kind.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll get right on it, sir. It’ll be a few more minutes.”

The Lord shrugged before settling into a nearby chair and flipping open a book.

Harry raced down the stairs to the kitchen as fast as he could to ask about fresh water for a bath. Within moments he had a few extra hands filling up buckets for him to take up to the Lord’s rooms. Harry was awfully glad for the help. If he would have needed to fill them up himself it would have taken far too long to give the man a hot bath.

Thankfully though, it was only half-an-hour before the man was seen settling into the warm water of his tub. Harry was asked only to wash his hair, something that made him awfully glad. After his new-found appreciation for the male form he wasn’t sure he could handle washing someone half as attractive as Sirius without reacting.

When Sirius finally managed to drag himself from the tub, nearly an hour had passed of him just resting in the warm water. Harry’s eyes flicked to a nearby clock and hear nearly jumped out of his skin. Lunch was set to begin in less than an hour! The man still needed to be dried, dressed, styled, and any other details he preferred.

In a few short moments he had the man dried off, wrapped back into a dry dressing gown and on his way to his mirror and chair.

Harry was quick to rush over to the wardrobe and pull out what he thought was a suitable outfit for a lunch at the palace. He had never been quite so thankful for his aunt’s insistence on learning about all the latest fashion trends as at that moment.

Then he turned back to Sirius and began the process of brushing out his hair. Starting at the base he worked his way up, adding in the lightest of oil to protect the strands. He was somewhat amused to hear the name Snape spill from Sirius’ lips as he added the oil. Apparently, the man had worn his hair a little too greasy for years now, and Sirius did not want to risk being confused with the scowling man.

Harry frowned once the hair was brushed, Uncle Vernon and Dudley had always kept their hair short. He had absolutely no idea how a man styled his hair, especially for a royal meal.

Sirius must have seen something on his face in the mirror, because he suddenly gave a laugh, “Don’t worry. Just tie it back at the top of my neck. A lot of Lord’s will let it down tonight, but most of the time the long hair is just pulled back to keep it out of the way.”

Harry let out a relieved breath and did as instructed. Sirius’ hair wasn’t as long as some, but Harry could still see several inches hanging past the tie and looked enviously at the long locks. His hair had always been kept shorter as well, never as short as Vernon’s but that was probably more because his hair always seemed to grow back to this length faster than it was supposed to.

He shook out the random thoughts and turned to the bed where he had laid out the garments he chose.

“If you would like, lunch will begin shortly. Would you like to dress?”

Sirius blinked before glancing at the clock, “Fantastic! I had been so worried that I still had more time to kill. That bath was bloody brilliant!”

The Lord came up and glanced at the clothing Harry had laid out with an approving smile, “Exactly what I would have chosen, except perhaps the shirt, but I think it’s exactly right. Have you been at the palace long? You seem to have a knack for it.”

Harry shook his head, “Not long, sir. I’m here helping on my family’s orders. They wanted to help the royal family but didn’t feel they could afford a grand enough gift. My aunt appreciates the fine styles though, so I’ve come to understand. I also help out with the local tailor quite often and she likes to leave her notes on the latest trends out and I have picked it up I guess.”

There was a moment of silence and Harry thought that perhaps he had shared too much. The man had only asked a yes or no question. He probably hadn’t wanted a whole story.

Before he could apologize, the Black Lord spoke in a decidedly too even tone, “Your family? Your aunt sent you here to work as a servant for the prince’s ball?”

“Yes, sir. They wanted to help where they could.” He didn’t see what the problem was, a lot of the servants around right now weren’t typically found at the palace.

Sirius shook his head lightly, even as he moved his arms to allow Harry to help with his robes.

“I don’t understand. Why would your family send you to help? Shouldn’t they send one of the servants?”

“I help out around my home a lot. Working with meals and cleaning and such, so it was better me than one of the others, I could make the journey a lot easier.”

Once again, the man fell into silence. Harry took advantage of it to actually help the man dress as he was supposed to. This was the first time he’d actually allowed it, and Harry figured it was because he was lost in thought.

“What are their names? I’ve never heard of a family called Cinders before.”

“I’d rather not talk about them anymore, actually, if you don’t mind. I expect I’ll see them tonight so…”

Sirius nodded his head once, “I can understand no wanting to talk about your family. You know when I was fifteen- I actually ran away to Prongs’ house. His parents were so welcoming, they weren’t quite noble you see. Just shy of it thanks to someone spreading rumors. But they still carried themselves like they were only they gave so much to everyone else instead of hogging it to themselves.”

Harry smiled, “They sound nice.”

“They were. I miss all of them every day. Prongs’ is the only reason that I even accepted the Lordship. I had to act too much like my family to get it, but now I have the ability to do more than if I’d been disowned. I try to make all my friends proud by doing what they never go the chance to do.”

The dark-haired orphan didn’t know quite how to respond to that, so he nodded and bent to tie the Lord’s shoes. The man blinked before chuckling slightly.

“You, sly dog. I didn’t even realize; didn’t I tell you I could dress myself?”

“Yes sir, my apologies.” But Harry couldn’t help his grin.

The Black Lord just shook his head, “Alright then. If you’re going to insist on helping, perhaps you could show me to the dining room?”

Harry smiled, “Of course, sir.”

“It’s ‘Sirius’, Cinder’s.”

“Yes, Sirius.”

And so Sirius and Harry walked down the main halls on their way to the lunch. Sirius continued to talk to Harry like he was a person. Telling stories of his family (not the nicest people by Sirius’ way of thinking) and his friends (whom he apparently thought the world of). Prongs, in particular, appeared to be the focus of the older man’s thoughts. From what Harry could gather they had been friends from the instant they’d arrived at the prestigious boarding school they’d both attended.

“You know, usually I talk about Moony with people. I haven’t talked about Prongs’ so much in years. You really do look like him, you know. Dark hair, glasses, the works. There is something familiar about that scar too. Prongs’ didn’t have one, believe me, but there is something about it…”

By that time, they had arrived at the double doors that would lead into the banquet hall. Harry was just about to ask that Sirius have a lovely meal when the Lord spoke again.

“You- who were your parents, Cinders?”

Harry shrugged, looked down at the floor, “I’m not sure, really. I know my dad came from a pureblooded-line. Mum was lucky to catch his eye according to most people, but my Aunt insists it was bad luck since it ended in their deaths. She never really seemed to like my mum though.”

Sirius sighed, “Hmm… alright then, Cinders. I suspect I’ll see you after lunch?”

Harry grinned, “Actually, I’m supposed to help with lunch. Serving and all. I suspect you’ll see me in just a few minutes.”

“That won’t do. You’ve been out and about far too much already.” He paused, “Oh, I know. I need you to go down to the stables and exercise my horse that’s there. He’s used to being exercised every day, you know. After that you’ll need to take a bath in order to look presentable. Of course, you’ll also want a good meal to hold you over while your exercising. After that, you should find suitable attire for myself for the ball tonight. That should hold you over until after I finish, don’t you think?”

“But, sir, I’m-.”

Sirius shook his head, “Ah! None of that, now. Orders, you have them, now shoo!”

The dark-haired boy turned from the large doors and impeccably dressed man and walked over to the nearest entrance to the servant’s stairs. Was this really an order he should follow? After all, Mrs. McGonagall did say that he was to do everything Lord Black asked, but he was also supposed to help in the dining room.

Harry stood inside the dusty hallways and shook his head, there was only one thing to do in a case like this. He needed to ask and find out. Otherwise he would stand here deciding for hours, not get either done, or worse pick the wrong one, and it would be a total loss. He shook his head and headed down the stairs into the kitchen. Catching the latch of the door echoing behind him just enough to be certain the door wouldn’t attract the attention of the guests.

When he stepped into the kitchen he was immediately assaulted by chaos. The cooks and assistants were practically flying about the room. Pots were stirring themselves, vegetables were being chopped by floating knives, and still people were rushing around adding this and that to various stews and dishes. Several filled plates were floating over to a set table that Harry was sure had not been there before. He vaguely wondered if they were even going to get half of the food up to the table in time. Lunch was set to start in mere minutes after all.

He definitely felt bad for insisting on anything. After all, he didn’t really need lunch yet, he was supposed to wait until two to eat any way and he was required to return for dinner any way, so there was no harm in skipping one meal. But he really did have to talk to Mrs. McGonagall or-.

“Why are you not properly attired for service in the dining room?”

Or Mr. Snape.

“Mr. Snape, sir. Lord Black requested that I exercise his horse for him, but I wasn’t quite sure if I should try and assist in the dining room first or not…”

The dour man pinched the bridge of his nose and seemed to quote several random plants, “Of course, he did. Let me guess, he also gave you other menial tasks that will allow you to be excused from duties until such time as he has finished dining?”

Harry looked down to the floor but nodded in answer.

“Very well, see that they are done. And should you finish prior to Lord Black be sure to return for other, pressing, duties.”

Harry nodded and made a hasty escape. Dodging a floating plate or two with a grin.

He made it outside of the walls and was ecstatic to enjoy the fresh air once again. Even during his indoor cleaning- he typically had a window open to allow in the breeze. The castle was honestly stifling after that, even considering the fact he was outside for most of the morning.

Of course, people seemed to forget that Harry didn’t actually know the castle yet. He had no idea where the stables were, or honestly if he would even be allowed to help for an hour or so. Still he took advantage of the time he had. He wandered through the gardens ostensibly looking for help, but primarily just to enjoy the sights and smells that surrounded him.

It was only when he spotted a familiar face that he remembered he actually had friends who worked at the castle. It was a red-head bent over a fine parchment that caught his eye. The young man was sitting on a wall surrounding the very fountain Harry had cleaned that morning and appeared to be taking notes on one of the plants.

Harry got a little closer and grinned when he saw the familiar looped handwriting.

“Percy?”

The bookish Weasley looked up, frowning slightly as his eyes adjusted. They widened slightly and he actually paused to scrub at his lenses before giving a small smile in return.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

“Petunia and Vernon. They couldn’t afford a present, so they sent me instead.”

Percy rolled his eyes, “Those people are disgusting. Are you supposed to be working then? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Seems to me, that there’s nothing I can do wrong here. I even spilled some water on stairs and didn’t get a lick of a reprimand.”

A frown appeared, “Strange. Typically, Snape is ripping everyone’s head off.”

“But- I am supposed to be finding the stables. I’m exercising Lord Black’s horse, in theory.”

“You’re working for Sirius, then? You are getting all of the breaks, I would have thought they’d keep you on cleaning duty.”

The red-head was standing up and packing up his parchment and quills as he spoke.

Harry smirked, “Me too! But they said I did something and I seem to have been unofficially promoted. I’m kind of hoping that they’ll keep me here. Don’t tell your mum though. I wouldn’t leave her alone with the Dursley’s no matter what.”

Percy scoffed, “Mum would be the first one to shove you out of that house.” He tightened his ink well and placed it in his bag, “Right then, I’ll show you to the stables, shall I?”

“You don’t have too. Just some directions would be fine.”

“The directions there would probably take a page just to get out of the garden. I’ll just show you, I wanted to talk to Charlie any way.”

“I still can’t believe they let Charlie take that position.”

“I don’t think he gave them much of a choice. I think he sometimes forgets he’s one a noble. I know most of us do, actually. It’s hard to remember that Bill is Heir Weasley when our mum has to work as a servant to another family just to feed us.”

Harry nodded, trying to keep track of the conversation while making notes on how to get back through the maze of a garden they were traipsing through.

“The Dursley’s don’t know she’s a Lady. They have no idea, or I doubt they even would have hired her.”

“We know, it’s a shame she has to hide her talent, but no one else will give a noble woman and job and regardless of our title they have a lot of children and bills. Of course, it doesn’t help that none of us can even think about giving some of our funds without getting a reprimand.”

Conversation kind of faded after that. But it was a peaceful silence as they walked out of the garden, around the lake, and towards the stables that it turns out were basically on the other side of the castle from where Harry had been. He blushed slightly but Percy only laughed.

“It’s alright, little brother. Charlie will be glad to see you, and I’m glad we got a chance to talk. You’ll see Ron, Fred, George, and Bill at the ball tonight as well. Hopefully we’ll all be able to catch up a bit.”

“Thank you, Percy. I’ll see you tonight.”

Harry made towards the stables in a slight trot not wanting to lose any more time and just heard Percy call over his shoulder as he made his way back to his own work.

“Don’t work too hard, Harry.”

Harry grinned as he shouted back, “I will!”

Which was when another familiar head appeared out of nowhere, “Was that Harry I heard?”

“Charlie!” He ran over and gave the older boy a hug, “How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine, pip-squeak, what brings you here though? That’s the real question.”

“How long before you drop that dreaded nickname? I’m seventeen now, you know. And I’m helping with the celebration, the Dursley’s sent me in lieu of a gift.”

Charlie shook his head, “Well, what all-important task has brought you out here today?”

“Lord Black asked me to exercise his horse a bit.”

The second-eldest Weasley child grinned, “Awesome! Witherwings is a fantastic stallion. Not good for breeding but a great animal. You’ll love him, come on.”

Harry gladly followed the young male in and smiled when he was led to a beautiful grey and white horse. His coat was dappled with grey spots that grew thicker around his head and feet giving this gradient from pure white into an almost black.

“Wow.”

Charlie grinned, “Right? This is a dappled Andalusian, but the pattern is pretty rare with the way the spots are placed. Pretty cool. He’s not a very intense ride, but you’ll definitely have to keep an eye on him because he will run if you give him the chance.”

Harry nodded and watched in awe as Charlie lifted the saddle with one hand onto the horse’s back before attaching the bridle and tightening everything with a wave of his wand. The red head then knelt down and offered his hands to the smaller teen. Harry grinned before accepting, kicking the dirt off of his shoes and stepping up. Charlie launched him onto the horses back.

“Alright, Harry. He is used to quite a bit of exercise, so he’ll probably want to go. Take a firm hand okay? Make sure you’re riding him and not the other way around. But don’t go to hard or he’ll fight back.”

Dark hair nodded once and Charlie flipped the back lock opening the gate to the pasture and sure enough Witherwings was off like a shot. Harry took a small moment to reign him in and guide him away from the other horses but then temptation was too great. The dark-haired servant loosened the reigns and gripped tight with his thighs and they were off.

Witherwings took them around the edge of the nearby forest going in just far enough to safely pass between the large trunks. Harry was just able to spot a small clearing with a gleaming white horse before they were off again. Down towards the gates where Harry could see a large lake, its crystalline waters reflecting the blue of the sky. Still the horse raced on. And Harry grinned.

His hair flew loose in the breeze as the stallion enjoyed his open stride. They turned a tight corner, jumped a low fence and slowed just long enough for a refreshing drink at the stream and stroll through wildflowers before they were off.

Harry was reluctant to walk on his own again, but eventually Witherwings began to slow. Harry reigned him into a canter before guiding him towards the stables once again. This time there was a small crowd that had appeared.

“That was some ride, Harry.”

The boy grinned, “Thanks! My bay could never pull off something like that. Witherwings is magnificent.”

A few of the onlookers gave snorts of disbelief and Harry’s smile fell, he turned to Charlie.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah,” He shook his head and gave Harry a wink, “They just wish they could ride like that. You’re a natural, a born-rider. Witherwings really had his match with you.”

“Oh, do you think Lord Black will mind?”

“He asked you to exercise him and I’d say you did a mighty fine job. Now if you take this path you’ll find yourself at the servant’s entrance to the conservatory. You’ll be able to find your way from there?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, the green room is right above there, right?”

“Exactly, I’ll brush Witherwings down and you head on back.”

“I really should do it myself, right?”

“Maybe, if I wasn’t so bored. But I need the work and it’s better than feeding another picky equine. So run along now.”

Reluctantly, Harry headed off. A glance up at the sky revealed more time had passed than he expected. It was probably a little less time than he would have wanted to select Sirius’ outfit for the ball. But perhaps if he hurried a bit…

With that thought, Harry picked up his pace, stepping quickly through the hedges that marked this side of the castle from the open fields. He hurried through the smaller gardens, smiling briefly at a beautiful, simple, tiered fountain, and glancing longingly at the lovely rose bushes. He stopped just outside the door to scrape his shoes on the provided brushes. Only enough to make sure nothing would trail him.

Stepping inside the glass room he looked only long enough to wish he could stay amongst the plants. The conservatory was full of plants that would never be found near here, treats that Harry could only appreciate from a distance thanks to their cost, but here they were. Trees full of oranges and bananas and some pink, spikey fruit he’d never seen before. Other plants seemed to move on their own and he could only tear his eyes away and race towards the two lamps he had been told marked the servants’ entrance to every room.

Slipping into the dark wooden corridors, where the only decoration was a worn rug which had once been plush enough to muffle the footsteps from those on the other side of the wall and now was thing and decorated only by the stains of use, was an almost painful experience for the young man. Still he heaved a deep breath and made his way quickly and quietly towards the gold rooms.

Only once did he give into the temptation to stop and peek through another doorway. His feet had paused on a room that sat almost in the middle of the rooms. He bit his lip and shook his head, he’d be fine with a quick stop. He eased open the door and stepped out onto the upper book-filled level of the gilded library. Green eyes danced along covers he didn’t dare pick up and landed on a dark-haired body. His heart jumped, until he recognized Mr. Thomas. He pulled back and hid in the corner of a shelf.

All of his carefully considered hope faded as he took in four other servants in various stages of cleaning. Tom had said himself that people avoided this room when he was in it. So there was likely no mysterious young man hidden within the pages and chairs in this room.

Harry gave a heavy sigh before turning back to the entrance and slipping once again into the small hallway. With a shake of his head he raced off towards Sirius’ room.

He was beyond thankful when he opened the door to an empty room. Nodding his head once he moved to the dark redwood of the armoire. He selected what he would have chosen ideally, but also gathered two other choices, just in case. The Lord Black’s style seemed to be rather… eclectic. He smirked at the thought.

His choice were simple open-front robes. The fabric itself was black but the hemming and consequent designs were done in a golden and silver thread that Harry was sure would catch the light just right, should the man deign to dance. Underneath Harry selected silk trousers and a shirt. Harry couldn’t imagine ever wearing silk trousers, but it seemed to be the latest trend. The trousers were a black to match the robes while the shirt itself was a silver to match the thread. Harry had figured out pretty quickly that Sirius was not fond of his family’s colors (green and silver) but it was important to make a nod to them as Lord Black. At least it was not green.

A large sigh startled Harry and he whipped around with a slight bow to see Sirius giving a small frown, “Well, at least it’s not green. Change out the silk trousers for cotton ones though. It may not be the latest craze in town, but I despise sliding in my seat.”

Harry eagerly pulled out the cotton pants he had selected just in case and set about dressing the man for the ball. He was surprisingly co-operative, and Harry found that the man was dressed and ready for the ball a little after six. He almost voiced his surprise, but was cut off by Lord Black revealing exactly why it was he had not protested.

“Good, that’s out of the way. Now we can worry about you. I have been informed, that you are intended to assist me until I enter the ballroom?”

Harry nodded once.

“Excellent, I am now ordering you to attend the ball with me.”

Harry blinked, looked around the room, turned back to Sirius and blinked again.

Sirius frowned, “This is where you’re supposed to thank me.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t understand, sir. Why would you want me to attend the ball?”

“Look, kid,” Sirius ran his fingers through his hair and Harry despaired that he would have to fix it again, “I know I’ve seemed a little crazy about my friends, but the truth is- Prongslet just turned 17. He should have been here tonight, but he wasn’t anywhere during the lunch today or the dinner last night.

“It doesn’t make much sense, but he should be here. If he can’t be then I don’t want to know what’s happened to him. But I _do_ want to imagine what tonight would have been like. I always imagined his mum picking out his robes, his dad making him look just like him, and then I would sweep in as the amazing godfather and put it all to rights. Making him look like he wanted to. But I can’t have that.”

Sirius walked towards the window that Harry now noticed overlooked the stables in the distance. Harry waited patiently for the rest.

“I want to know what it could have been like. You look like- not important- more important is the fact that you look like you need this. You seem like you deserve this ball. So I am going to tell Snape that you are to remain in my rooms and something or other. And _you_ are going to accompany me to the ball.”

Harry bit his lip, “I’m sorry that you can’t have that, but I… I _can’t_ go to the ball. I’m not a noble, I’m just a servant, my guardians have reminded me of that enough.”

“So? I’m not planning on telling anyone. You’re not getting married tonight. You’re going to go out there and have a good time. That’s all I’m asking.”

Harry shook his head, and he was sure Sirius could see his internal panic.

“Alright, alright! Just let me get you all fabulous,” Here he struck a ridiculous pose that dragged a smile to Harry’s face, “and then you can tell me ‘no’, alright?”

The dark-haired boy wanted to say ‘no’ now, he just knew something was going to happen that was going to turn everything on its head. A look at Sirius’ smile made it impossible. The man obviously missed his friends, and seeing as he thought he would never meet his godson again… He gave a sigh and Sirius seemed to take that as the yes it was preceding.

“Perfect! Now here, you just come over here. Alright now, before we get started you are welcome to stay in these as long as you want, it won’t matter. My transfigurations are awesome, but they never last more than 6 hours which gives you until…” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “midnight- give or take a few minutes. Nothing, aside from me, will cancel them before that though. Once the spell ends, they become exactly what you’re wearing now, no harm no foul.”

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, he didn’t have to see this just because it was happening. No, he was going to live in ignorant bliss until it was all done.

He spent the next several minutes in silence listening only to Sirius muttered words and the sound of his wand flicking through the air. He could feel the change in the air and the shifting in his clothes as they altered around his body. The material grew as soft as what he had dressed Sirius in, and he couldn’t help but smile as his toes grew warm inside his new socks and shoes.

He felt the tingle on his skin which he assumed was dirt being cleared away and his hair seemed to shift slightly before settling. He felt a couple of heavier objects land amongst his robes, but he kept his eyes firmly shut against the reality.

Harry just knew he was going to get in so much trouble. Yes, everyone had said he was to follow Sirius’ every order, but they could not mean this. It was such a breach of protocol, of manners, of society, even life! A servant attending the ball, sure that was fine so long as they were carrying a tray. A guest servant, maybe for a moment to help.

But attending as a guest? Dressed as a nobility member? Accompanied by a Lord? There was no way that he could even think of letting himself do this. Just because the others had given him insane amounts of leeway was no excuse to go insane. He’d dress up, let Sirius appreciate and then gently tell him thank you but no.

Or at least that would have been the plan. But it seemed that Sirius was determined to get his way and had managed to come up with a way to avoid Harry’s refusals.

There was a long moment without Sirius’ muttering before Harry dared to open his eyes. And he came face to face with the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Somehow Sirius had transformed him. He hadn’t seen himself, really looked, at himself with out a dirty face in years. Sure he’d washed his face yesterday but he’d been in a rush to get back to his job and hadn’t really looked.

Sirius had helped him grow out his hair just enough to be pulled back like Tom had worn his in the library he other day. His glasses had their rims thinned so they didn’t mar his face and his robes were the finest, softest cotton and paired with the green shirt could hardly recognize himself.

“What happened to you hating green?”

“I may hate my family- but I won’t deny that any other color would just not have fit you, at least not without me introducing you as a close family friend.”

Harry blinked, “Lord Black, I’m sorry but- I really _can’t _go with you. It’s not a good idea. You said that you know Mister Snape? He’s kind of my boss and I seriously doubt that he will let me go to the ball. He was mad enough about the whole horse thing this afternoon.”

Sirius just snorted, “Snape is never happy about anything. I only saw that man smile three times and all three were because Lilypad was lecturing Prongs. You know, he’s actually supposed to be my godson’s other godfather. He was Lilypad’s best friend growing up, don’t know how she could stand him.”

He shook his head, “You seem to enjoy distracting me. The point however is that I despise these things. I truly do, and everyone knows it. So I am going to go to the ball late and I’m going to hate it and I’m going to come back early. Something everyone will expect. Meaning you won’t have time to go down and help at the ball. Hermione only usually got about an hour of help in so no one will be surprised if you don’t show up.”

Harry blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. And blinked again.

There were so many things wrong with that sentence and this plan.

“What if someone needs me? No one will expect for you to be up until two if you’re not at the party, so what about after you go to bed? And what if one of the servants recognize me? What if someone comes to collect me for something? And finally- why would I go to accompany you if you’re just going to abandon me?”

Sirius shook his head, “I thought you might be thinking about that. Which is why I arranged for a little help.”

“What do you mean?”

There was the knock on the door, “Lord Black?”

“Heir Longbottom?!” Harry almost choked on the whispered name.

Sirius smirked as he strutted over to the door, “Ah, Neville. So good of you to offer to help.”

The handsome man stepped inside, “It is no worry.”

“I admit I am feeling better than at lunch, but I am unsure how long I’d be able to make it through the whole dance. Wouldn’t be fair to this young gentleman.”

Sirius gestured at Harry and he swallowed heavily under the gaze of both men.

“Pleasure to meet you, Heir Longbottom.”

“Please, call me Neville,” He gave Harry a careful smile, “Your name was Harry Jamison, correct?”

Harry sighed, “That’s me, but you can call me ‘Harry.’”

At least Sirius had picked a name he’d probably remember. He frowned, wondering why Sirius picked ‘Harry’ he didn’t think the older man had ever heard his name before. He shrugged it off just in time to glare at the Lord. Neville gave him a questioning look.

“Oh, my friend here didn’t tell me you were meeting us.”

Neville bit his lip, “Oh I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Not what I meant, promise,” Harry shot him a smile, “I’m just a little upset that I didn’t get a heads up, all on him.”

Neville gave a small smile, “I can see why Sirius wanted it known that you were his guest. He told me that you didn’t have a very formal idea of manners either.”

Harry made an involuntary face, “I can. Be formal that is, but it just gets exhausting.”

Neville gave an open laugh and Harry felt heat rise into his cheeks at the sound. Sirius gave him a smirk and Neville moved to open the door.

“My mum and dad have a thing about punctuality, shall we?”

Harry turned to Sirius, “You’re really not going to come down?”

The older man shrugged, “I’ll have to make an appearance, but I don’t plan on arriving until much later in the evening, I think I’ll need a bit of a longer rest before I’m up for it.”

“Don’t mess up your robes.” Harry moved toward the door following Neville with a small smile that he was sure would give away how sick he felt.

But Neville gave him an understanding smile and guided him along the way down the very halls Harry had so recently escorted Sirius Black. Neville was quiet and Harry found himself already liking the boy who wasn’t going to press.

“So… why is it that Sirius wants you to pretend to be a noble?”

Harry groaned, maybe Neville was going to press, “I honestly have no idea. How did you know? I knew I couldn’t pull this off. I should just go back now.”

Neville laughed, “I’d never have known, I just listened to your conversation with Sirius a little more than I maybe should have.”

The two boys shared a laugh, but Harry was still very worried about what would happen. As far as he knew, everyone would be able to tell right away that he did not belong there. Above all, he was lacking the gift that the upper class was known to possess. A few of the ungifted were allowed, they didn’t hate people without magic, but they just didn’t have the power to get themselves promoted as it were.

Harry just knew he was going to stand out, and not in a good way.

Neville wasn’t letting him back out though. Every time Harry’s thoughts would slip to running back to the safety of the servants’ halls, Neville would pop up with an observation, a question, a quip, or even just a chuckle to keep Harry’s feet moving. Before Harry knew it they were standing at the doors. The music from within told Harry it must be after seven, the dancing begun and carrying people away with the notes.

Neville nods at the men holding the doors and gestures Harry to enter before him, Harry vehemently refuses and promises to follow with a nod. Entering before an heir? In Harry’s nightmares alone would something like that occur.

Unfortunately, he did not think about what his entrance would mean. Every heir would be announced, which meant there was no way Harry could go unnoticed. Thankfully Neville had already planned for his freak out and he merely shook his head when the man went to introduce Harry leaving the servant flustered and uncertain enough for them to sneak into the crowds.

It took all of three seconds before Harry and Neville were bombarded by the five heads of red hair.

Ron whistled lightly as he took in Harry’s clothes, “You clean up nice, mate. Where did you get the robes?”

“A friend made them for me, for tonight only though.”

Percy smiled lightly but seemed more focused on the spell-work than the boy beneath the charms, “That was some nice transfiguration. I’m assuming this is one of the upper-nobility then.”

Neville, a little confused about how all of these people knew his supposedly unknown companion smirked at that, “Lord Black.”

Charlie laughed, “You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger, don’t you, pip-squeak?”

“Charlie!”

The five red heads joined Neville in laughter at Harry’s embarrassed face. The music turned to something a little softer, letting Harry lower his voice just a bit, “Where is George?”

The boys smirked as one and Harry could sense Neville becoming a little overwhelmed by the obvious familiarity. Ron was the one to point over to where the red head was flirting with a brunette.

“Who’s that?”

“Angelina Johnson, not a pureblood but a great match as far as anyone could be concerned.”

Neville’s answer was met with honest nods, but Harry was the one to see that the heir’s eyes were not on the brunette but on a blond standing mere feet away.

“Who’s that?”

The boy blustered at being caught but Harry merely smiled and waited for the boy to gather his thoughts. When Neville realized Harry wasn’t going to just ignore it, he heaved a sigh.

“Hannah Abbot. She is a pureblood, though. A lot of other people are interested in courting her.” He shrugged.

“What has she said?”

“She hasn’t accepted anyone, otherwise there wouldn’t be a lot of them, Harry.”

The boy rolled his green eyes, “No, I mean what has she said to you?”

The music shifted and Harry got lost for a moment in the stronger beats and the mood lighting. Waiting patiently for the other boy to get to his point.

“Nothing,” Neville bit his lip, “I haven’t talked to her. She wouldn’t be interested anyway.”

“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think? I mean personally I would hate it if someone just made a decision for me. And all it does is let you stand on the sidelines. Wouldn’t it be better to know? Instead of asking what if?”

“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have a legacy falling on your shoulders.”

A part of Harry twinged at the reminder of his orphan status, but he shook it off, “True. But I also have no dowry, no job, no prospects, and no inheritance. So…”

The taller boy did flinch at that and gave Harry a curious look which the dark-haired boy just brushed off.

“Don’t worry about it. The point is that you should at least let her make up her own mind. I know for a fact that you’re an attractive bloke, and that’s not just me who’s said something about it either. Beyond that today you’ve shown me you’re nice, funny, and charming. Just go talk to her.”

The boy gave a nod and straightened his shoulders, “Are you going to be okay on your own?”

That was when Harry glanced around to see that all of the Weasleys had indeed disappeared, three of them to a dance partner, one to the snacks, and the other to a heated discussion. But Harry was more comfortable blending by himself so he nodded and gestured the other boy away.

Neville smiled brightly and headed off, steeling himself. Harry watched him go with a smile, only slightly lamenting the other boy’s interest in someone else. But as Neville managed to great Hannah with a blushing smile that was happily, shyly returned he allowed his eyes to wander away and give them some space.

For the first moment he was able to actually appreciate the room he stood in. He’d managed to avoid all of the jobs that would have placed him in here before, not purposefully, mind you, but it was an amazing feat all of the servants had put together.

First of all- the ceiling itself. Harry wasn’t sure how he could have missed it, but it might have been from keeping his head down and eyes looking only to see if anyone expected anything. The space where Harry should have seen a beautiful vaulted ceiling with magnificent arches was displaying instead the most beautiful night sky. Every once and a while a cloud would form and drift away or a shooting star would brighten up this corner or that.

Below the light of the stars were these magnificent floating spheres. It was almost as though they were stars that had fallen through the ceiling. You could see them casting beams of light that could be tracked to the floor, altering patterns, colors, patterns to match the music being played. The walls themselves were rather brightly lit, allowing for open conversation and easy selections of food. The dance floor was in shadow giving a sense of privacy, an ability to lose one’s self in dance and in your partner.

The poor boy was entranced by these various dancers as they spun around the floor and he couldn’t help but smile wistfully. He straightened slightly at a sudden presence behind his shoulder.

“I was hoping I might find you here tonight.”

Harry frowned, not really knowing who could have been expecting him, but when he turned- he couldn’t help but smile at the handsome man.

“It’s you!” The brunet chuckled and Harry flushed, “I mean- it’s good to see you, Tom.”

A few people shot surprised looks his way, but Tom’s smile only widened. Harry couldn’t really bring himself to care what these others thought when the handsome man took him in so happily.

“I am still absolutely intrigued by you. You are only the second person in my life who has not tried to woo me instantly upon hearing my name. Will you give me your name?”

Harry thought about the many different names and faces that he’d been given but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to this man any more than he had.”

“It’s Harry. Just... Harry.”

Then Tom gave a bigger smile that bordered on a smirk as he held out his hand, “Well then, Harry, would you accompany me in this next dance?”

Harry’s hand slipped into the gloved palm without question and the tall man eagerly led him out to the floor.

*******

*******

Harry sat beside the stairs for a long moment. His hands shaking and his eyes full of tears. He refused to let them fall but he couldn’t prevent them from warping the beautiful stars in the sky.

When he had danced with Tom, Harry’s dared to hope they might have a chance. Tom didn’t seem like he would care too much where Harry was in the social hierarchy, in fact he had actually listened to Harry. Tom had let Harry talk and we Tom had spoken Harry couldn’t help but listen.

Tom carried a wall around him, Harry had noticed that fairly early on, but he had understood. There were things Harry hadn’t wanted to discuss with him anyway.

Harry just could never have imagined that the wall was hiding a freaking royal crown.

“The prince.” Harry shook his head and forced himself to stand. He made his way back around to the conservatory, sneaking his way back to the servants’ halls. He went up the stairs first, to where Sirius was likely sleeping and peeked in.

He gave a light smile when he saw the man’s dress robes hanging off the edge of the bed. He carefully hung up the fine fabric and restoked the fire before straighten the man’s covers while he slept blissfully on. Harry didn’t think Sirius had even made an appearance.

Which was about right as far as Harry could tell. At least the man would have no idea that his good deed had resulted in Harry’s painful chest and the clutch of reality.

The teenager made his way down to the quarters and managed to sneak into his bed unnoticed shere he closed his eyes and felt the only tear he would shed for his station in life sneak from between his eyelids.

It was only there, in the dark, in the space behind the noise, that Harry let himself state the reason for his fears, happiness, sadness, and hope.

“Prince Thomas. I danced with Prince Thomas Riddle.”

*******

*******


	3. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry swears he's not going back to the ball. No one quite believes him.

Heir Prince Tom Marvolo Riddle had been up all night. Much to the consternation of his manservant. The boy was clearly worn to the bone and for a split second he let his thoughts drift to the clearly flustered servant he had met two days prior, but it was only a moment before he was back to the focus of his insomnia.

Harry.

That was the boy’s name, the boy who had not recognized Tom for a prince. More than that he was a boy who was not too caught up in titles to care. He had called him ‘Tom’ without prompting and with a smile. They had danced for hours and between songs they had allowed themselves free conversation. Tom learned that the boy was desperate for an apprenticeship (which was not welcome news per say, his grandfather would not be happy to have a poor noble on the throne) and had shared with Harry that he almost wished he had a choice regarding his profession.

Tom had mentioned a growing attraction for the honest boy and had even gone so far as to hope for a kiss. Not that he had dared to solicit the affection, at least not before he was certain that the boy was truthful and had secured at least permission for courting.

He could only hope that Harry had been as honest as he was.

The thought that Harry had disappeared for any reason was ripping his carefully controlled thoughts to shreds. But the idea that perhaps it had been for another was the one that truly concerned him at the moment. Tom reminded himself for the dozenth time since he’d left the ball that he needed to discuss the young man with his grandfather immediately.

Perhaps he should have done it last night, but the thoughts spinning though his head had sent him far from the dancing and the laughter. From what he heard there had been a fantastic ending to the party his father had stormed out, aggravated at his grandfather and the party had ended far sooner than any one had anticipated.

Of course that was after the excitement of the haughty, proud prince saying ‘please’ to a noble after chasing him, only to resume the chase moments later. Desperate to escape his thoughts, Tom flicked his fingers through the air. Eight was a decent enough time for a conference. They were technically family after all.

Nodding to himself Tom rose to his feet and gave his manservant the signal to allow him some rest before moving out of his rooms and down the halls to where his grandfather slept. He was greeted, or at least stared expectantly at, by his grandfather’s usual guard and he nodded to the man who seemed to deflate suddenly before letting the door open slightly behind him.

Another nod, this one slightly more meaningful had Tom stepping through the large black doors into the truly dark and despairing rooms of his grandfather. Apparently the man had never liked color and had slowly swept it from his rooms. The carpeting was black, the plush seats were black and no where near as comfortable as they looked, the desk in the corner, the coffee table, the plants, the fireplace, all of them were as black as midnight without stars.

Tom practiced his carefully repressed hatred of this room and gave it a cursory look. His grandfather would be more impressed if he could locate something that had changed within the room since his last visit. Of course, seeing as Tom had not entered these rooms within the last year, it should not be too challenging.

Harry had understood Tom’s reluctance to talk about his family. Admitting his own status as a ward in a relatives’ home. But what had fascinated Tom was the fact that Harry still managed to make a family sound like a wonderful thing. While Tom had decided to forego the whole thing, part of the reason he was interested in males if he were honest, Harry still held faith and actually made Tom think that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Thomas!” 

The young man fought back a wince. His grandfather must have been attempting to secure his attention for a while now.

“What exactly has resulted in your presence in my rooms at this unholy hour?”

Tom fought against rolling his eyes, “Pardon the intrusion, grandfather. However I desired an audience regarding my intended courtship.”

His grandfather’s complaints seemed to die on his lips, obviously taken off guard for a moment, before the fire came back full force.

“It did not appear that you desired my opinion on the matter last night when you kept the boy to yourself and then chased him from the ballroom. There will be talk about this ball for the rest of your days, boy. I had thought you had learned the importance of appearances.”

Tom nodded, “Yes, which is why I thought it would be a good idea to show the people that I care about the person I am attempting to wed. Dancing with a thousand people would only make people uncertain of my choice. I have made my choice though, Grandfather.”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose, “The lad was rather attractive I gather, but I do not understand the appeal of his size, he appears underfed and scrawny.”

“I am not merely interested in his appearance. Do I have your understanding regarding my intentions?”

“You want my blessing then? Who even is this boy? Do you know which family he hails from? There seemed to be some serious questions about his identity.”

“I am not seeking your blessing. I have chosen. I am seeking your understanding of that fact. I will not wed another. In respect to your concerns, I know only that his first name is Harry. I am unsure of his lineage, but his face and manners are familiar. I am certain that I have conversed with him during a previous encounter.”

“And if I deny your courtship?”

Tom raised a single eyebrow, “Then I believe I will leave it up to you to determine which unlucky suitor you shall force into an engagement I feel obliged to dishonor. Everyone last night has accepted my decision, perhaps unwillingly, but all have noted my preferences. Your interference will likely result in a drop of disproval and begin sowing discord.”

His grandfather’s eyes narrowed, and Tom met his glare for long moments. They both knew he was right, if nothing else, Tom was far more attractive to their people and a great many of them had been more than excited for this occasion as it marked the beginning of his ascension. Any interference would appear to be a hindering motion for the current king and would make for a troublesome time.

“So long as you follow the rules and marry a lad of noble, gifted, status I will not stand in the way of your courtship.”

Tom smirked, gave a half-bow to his grandfather before turning on his heel and striding confidently out of the dark wood doors. With one complication handled, Tom now had only to find Harry. He remembered the rooms he had spotted Harry in for the first time just the day before yesterday and headed off. He believed the servants referred to that room as the pink room.

He personally thought of it more as a puke room. The entire thing was done simply and elegantly enough, but there was a tradition of sticking the… less enjoyable guests in that room. Which meant they usually were not extended an early invitation and was why he had been so surprised to see the young man there previously.

Harry had said that he expected it to be empty as well, so perhaps it was not his personal quarters, but there may be a clue as to his identity.

Hearing movement from behind the door, Tom stood a little straighter and knocked lightly. There were several moments of pause before a high voice started shrieking orders that Tom couldn’t hope to understand. He double checked the hallway as his frown intensified. This was the right room, but there was no way his calm, polite, charming intended was associate with those unholy noises.

Eventually the door was opened by a rather interesting young man. He was approximately the same age as Tom’s intended but rather than being underfed, this lad appeared to be recovering from an opposite problem. He was not overweight per say. In fact, he reminded him greatly of Heir Longbottom. He was clearly regaining control, but Tom shuddered to think what he would look like in a few years if the whale of a man behind him was any indication.

Tom waited for a few moments but the two males simply stared gob-smacked at him but he could hear the owner of the high voice still flittering in the background. Tom pursed his lips.

“As you have apparently come to disregard the proper manners befitting your station, I shall excuse my own and come straight to the point. Have any of you seen a young dark-haired noble man this morning. I had seen him in this area a few days ago and was hoping to gain an audience with him.”

Suddenly the source of the screeching appeared her fake smile stretching her thin frame unnaturally, “Your Highness! What a pleasant surprise! I am afraid, we have not seen such a gentleman, having only just arrived ourselves, but we will certainly keep an eye out for him! Would you care to join us for some refreshments?”

The way the woman seemed to end every schmoozing statement with an exclamation point grated on Tom’s nerves. It took all he had not to sneer at the noble family.

“No. I appreciate the sentiment, but I really should allow you to settle in. I shall see you at the dinner tonight I am certain.”

Tom immediately walked down the hall and let his sneer crawl across his face. Well that was at least one candidate down. Had he not already chosen the mute blond would have most assuredly lost his place in the running. What kind of heir allowed his mother to speak for him whilst he stood silent?

However, this did still leave the question of where was the young noble who he had danced with, why did he seem so familiar despite Tom not knowing any named ‘Harry,’ and most importantly- why did he run?

****

****

Harry had never been more thankful in his life than he was when he encountered a familiar face.

Having actually gotten to bed somewhat earlier than the others and frankly used to the lack of sleep, Harry was once again the first up. He was instantly recruited by the cook who appeared not ten minutes later, apparently flustered.

She’d frowned at his presence, glanced at the stove, back at him, “Can you cook? Never mind I’ll teach you anything you need to know.”

And Harry had been off.

By the time McGonagall had appeared the cook, affectionally called Mimsy, informed her that every moment Harry was not serving the guests was to be spent with her. Apparently, McGonagall had decided not to argue. Harry made brief excursions to Sirius’ room throughout the morning to check in between biscuits, soups, and sauces, but until almost eleven the lord had yet to stir.

It was only when Harry came up bearing a lunch tray that the man displayed any signs of life. The smell of the soup woke him instantly and he eagerly donned his dressing robe and hurried to the desk where the delicious smells had been laid out.

It didn’t take long for him to reveal that he had apparently downed much more alcohol than he had intended upon seeing his selected ward dancing with the prince himself.

“If I had known I would walk in at a quarter to midnight to see you wrapped in those arms I would have escorted you in myself. Given him a little bit more of a challenge. Of course, then you made it worse by disappearing. The only good thing was that he came back alone.”

Harry flushed slightly at the knowledge that Sirius has spotted him and apparently been worried about him. He had stayed in the ballroom just long enough to become… dysfunctional and socialize with the bare few before he had returned to his rooms.

Harry had been given orders for a bath and some oils and had been stepping quickly through the hall when a decidedly welcome voice had called out after him.

“Harry, darling? Is that you?”

“Mrs. Weasley?” Harry’s question had been out before he could turn but sure enough the motherly woman was standing not twenty-feet away.

“Oh Harry! I’ve been so, so worried. I tried to ask after you, but no one knew your name! You look absolutely wonderful. I can hardly believe it’s been mere days. How are you?”

Harry grinned, “I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley! It’s so good to see you. Everyone here calls me ‘Cinders’ so that’s probably why they were confused. It’s been great though, Mrs. McGonagall has been forcing me to eat and take breaks, and even Mr. Snape doesn’t seem as mean as he looks. And last night I…”

Harry faded off with a frown and the matron shook her head, “Now, now, none of that. I have not seen you smile like that in years. What’s got you back down, pumpkin?”

“… I can’t say much but I’ve met someone since I’ve been here. And he was wonderful and kind, albeit a little pretentious but I don’t think he can help it and I just realized that I’ll probably never see him again…”

The warm eyes were filled with understanding, “Rubbish. I happen to know for a fact that even the most unlikely of unions has a way of sorting itself out.”

Harry shook his head, “There are things… I met him at the ball and he thought I was a noble and I’m not. Even if we did see each other again, I don’t know if he would forgive me for lying. I didn’t technically. I don’t know if he’d get that though. Everyone here seems to think that I’m something special though and I don’t know how to be special when I’m not- but I don’t want to let them down and-.”

“Harry! Harry, luv, it’s alright. Just breathe for a moment. Now, I’m staying with Charlie in his small house just off to the side of the stables. Ron is staying with me along with Ginny. Now, why don’t you see if you can sneak out some time and come over for tea. We’ll sort it out then, alright?”

The dark-haired boy nodded and took a shaky breath, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Of course, dear. Run along now.”

Harry gave an honest smile before hurrying off down the hall to get help with Sirius’ bath water. It turns out that Lord Black was unrepentant in letting Harry off. He kept Harry busy with preparations and entertaining him. It seemed like he was going back and forth all day about something but Harry didn’t disturb him, just let him think whatever it was over.

In all honesty, he figured the lord was trying to find a replacement personal servant. Harry was not expecting the man to stop him about 15 minutes before dinner (Sirius was dressed and ready by then, a feat which Harry found miraculous) and tell him Harry was going to accompany him to dinner.

He was shaking his head before he even heard the question and only grew more emphatic.

“I can’t come to the dinner. There aren’t enough places for people who aren’t specifically invited. Plus- you’re the one who reminded me that I should not have been dancing with the prince.”

Sirius snorted, “I don’t care about that. I just care that he had the gall to dance with you, without clearing it with your escort first.”

“Who exactly was he going to ask?”

“Entirely besides the point. But you’re coming with me today and then he can ask properly.”

Harry thought of the hundred things wrong with that statement, but settled with the only argument Harry thought Sirius would let him win with, “I’ve promised by adoptive family that I would eat with them tonight. They’re not invited to the dinner, so I’m eating with them on the grounds.”

Sure enough, Sirius’ jaw snapped closed and he huffed, “By Godric. Fine. But I will see you at the ball and you had better see me before you start dancing with that miscreant again.”

“Miscreant? You do realize he’s the prince, right? Besides- I’m not going to dance with him at all. What would I do if he actually decided on anything with me? He can’t. I’m only a servant and he doesn’t even know my name and you’re not going to tell him.”

Sirius went to say something else but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Harry opened it to reveal Neville. The young lord was seeking out Harry, but seemed to see something on the young man’s face as he quickly turned his attention to the older Lord, allowing Harry to sneak out the servant’s entrance and down towards the kitchens.

He was there for only a moment before Mimsy swiped him in to help with dessert. Thankfully, it was an easy enough task, so he was only very late to supper at Charlie’s little cottage by the time he arrived.

Harry had just raised his hand to knock when he found the door being yanked open and a familiar red-head was yanking him into the small building by his wrist. He tugged him silently around the corner, Harry didn’t think anyone else had noticed his arrival yet.

“Why didn’t you tell mum that you danced with the prince?!”

Green eyes widened and he looked around, “Because I don’t want people to know!”

“Mate,” Ron gave him a disapproving look, “We were all there, we all saw it happen.”

“Yes, but that’s only like four people who know. You, Neville, Lord Black, and myself. I don’t think anyone else was really paying attention to the Prince’s latest conquest. And no one would connect it with me. They can’t know.”

“Harry-.”

“Swear it, Ron. Swear you won’t say anything.”

The redhead tossed his head uncertainly before giving in with something reminiscent of a snarl, “Fine. I swear I won’t say anything. But you so owe me, Harry.”

“Hey everyone! Look who I caught hanging out in front of the door.”

Nine smiling heads turned to greet him and Harry was amazed that all of them managed to fit in the house without looking like sardines all packed in. They each encouraged Harry into a hug before handing him a plate stuffed with food and pushing him to sit in a nearby chair.

“I’m going to be absolutely miserable when I go back to the Dursley’s.”

Mrs. Weasley gave him a small frown and shook her head, but it was Charlie’s beaming smile that caught his attention.

“Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that. Mrs. McGonagall was asking around after your guardians. She, Snape, and Mimsy are all trying to convince them to let you stay at the castle permanently for a decent payment in return. At least until they can find another servant to help them.”

The small boy sat still for a long moment. The Weasley’s got carried away by the news, their excitement tangible as they exclaimed loud and proud for the young boy who’d become their family. But Harry? He could only feel his stomach in his feet and the way his hands went shaky.

“I… I can’t stay here.”

At first no one really heard him. It was not until the door shut and they found his spot empty that the red-headed clan even tried to search out his words from their hazy memories.

****

****

Tom spent the hours before the feast in the library as per usual.

He could not say truly what drew him there today. He found his thoughts bouncing between the dirty and amusing servant who he had seen not even a week ago and the handsome noble whom he had danced with the night before.

The green-eyed servant who’d seemingly wanted nothing more than to take a book from the shelf. But who had refrained with a sigh at his blackened fingers. The servant who was clearly visiting and had no idea that he had talked back to the Heir Prince Riddle.

Just the thought that he could compare that dust covered urchin to that noble heir was laughable. With Harry’s fantastically green eyes and his thick black hair. Not to mention how he had liked Tom before he’d even known his rank.

He blinked.

No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be possible. It wouldn’t make sense.

Swallowing thickly, Tom made his way back to his own room. Sending a request to his personal servant, Crouch, to have a pensieve ready for him within the hour. There had to be some explanation to all of this madness that was coursing through his mind.

Tom was pleased to find that the pensieve was already set out when he stepped through the doors to his room.

****

****

“Cinders!”

Harry jumped at the shout of his name and only mildly freaked when he was yanked into a dark corner along the servant’s hall. When his vision cleared, he found himself staring at the back of a mess of curls.

“Hermione?”

“You! You are a complete imbecile.”

He blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“I just heard that you went to the ball last night. As a guest!” Her whispered yells were echoing down the hall and Harry tensed.

“Sirius kept me with him the whole ball. He was freaked about having to attend so he only went for a while before he got too drunk to stay.”

“The whole castle heard about that. But I’m the only one who heard Heir Longbottom telling Draco that the dark-haired boy he brought to the ball was Lord Black’s ward. And seeing as you’re the only dark-haired boy who has been in Lord Black’s company it is not that hard to conclude that you snuck into the ball!”

“I did not sneak, I was dragged. Lord Black made me promise to dress like a noble and then he called Heir Longbottom to his room to escort me to the ball. If I didn’t go, Heir Longbottom would know that Lord Black was lying. And let’s just look at the fact that you’re calling Heir Malfoy, “Draco,” shall we?”

“He demanded it and don’t think I’m just going to let this slide. I’ll-!”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face her fully for the first time, “You’ll what? Tell Mrs. McGonagall? If she believes you, I could be killed, exiled, or at the very least sent back home with a lashing. But I doubt they would believe you seeing as all you have is hearsay and more importantly who on earth would believe that Heir Prince Thomas Marvolo Riddle would give a flying arse about a stupid, good-for-nothing, gold-digging servant boy?! I’m worthless Hermione. I only went because I was forced.”

Hermione said nothing. And Harry just shook his head at the dumbstruck girl. Apparently, she did not quite think about the consequences telling would have.

“I have to go complete my duties, now. I’m sure that Lord Black will be needing assistance preparing for the ball.”

Harry left before the other girl could say anything. His stomach was roiling with the distress of remembering just how pointless his crush on the Prince was. Yes, the man was charming. Yes, he actually seemed to care about Harry. But Harry was worth nothing and would only cause trouble. He would lay low for the rest of his stay. He would deny the offer to stay and work at the castle. He would return home and live the rest of his days in sullen solitude until he found someone willing to take him on in a trade. He had plenty of little skills and if he had any magic, then it would be a good bonus.

He peaked into Sirius’ rooms and found the man still out, most likely enjoying the dessert that he had made just an hour ago. He set out preparing the Lord’s clothes for the night, choosing the options that Sirius had gone against the night before as well as pressing the shirt from last night, freshly laundered this morning while Harry had been working with Mimsy.

He heard voices coming up the hall and immediately backed into a spot an appropriate distance from the door where he could be seen or ignored as the man wished.

He was not expecting to see a whole crowd appear in the doorway. Nor was he expecting to see all faces he was very familiar with.

“Lord Black?”

The man in question smirked at his servant for the week and shrugged, unrepentant.

“It did not take a mastermind to deduce what family was visiting, nor which family was not present at the meal this afternoon. I ran into our young Mr. Percy here and he informed me of your acquaintance. I was pleasantly surprised.”

Well, that explained the five heads of red hair. Fred, George, Percy, Ron, and Bill were all standing in Lord Black’s room. But not the familiar embarrassed smile of Heir Longbottom. But it was not his place to ask questions.

“Would you like me to get refreshments sent up?”

Bill spoke, “We actually want you to close your eyes and get ready to wow the audience when you walk into the ball looking even more dapper than last night. The prince won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

He shook his head, “You all want me to get killed.”

“No!”

“Yes! If I get found out, a servant at the Prince’s Birthday Ball who is not only attending but _seducing _the prince, and yes that is what people will see, I _will_ be killed. There is no way around it. So I am not going.”

Lord Black shook his head, “You’re not going to be found out. Because as far as anyone is concerned- you are a noble. You are my ward in all of their eyes thanks to some quick thinking by our friend Neville over here.”

“Great! So now instead of it just being my death, for impersonating a noble, it will be all of us for damned treason against the crown!”

Percy looked uncomfortable even as the rest of them tried to talk their friend into the plan. Eventually though it was Ron who came up with an answer that made Harry’s mouth go dry at the mere possibility.

“Are you really willing to tie your name to him? I mean, even if you never see each other again there will be quite a tizzy if the Prince can’t find him after tomorrow. What if you really did take him on?”

Sirius stopped and his mouth went wide in an honest laugh and Harry felt his stomach fall until Sirius wrapped him in a hug.

“That’s brilliant!” He stood back and it was only a moment before his smile fell again, “But there are three problems.”

Harry folded his arms around himself, “Only three?”

“The first is that you technically already have guardians. So unless they gave you up, I won’t be able to take you in officially.”

Percy snorted, “Those lunatics know nothing of his real value. They’ll hand him over in a heartbeat.”

Sirius shot Percy a glare before turning back to Harry, “He’s not wrong. It doesn’t really bother me anymore. I would give them up in half a second if I could.”

“The second problem is that my family have old rules. I can’t adopt you if you aren’t Gifted.”

Harry sighed, “I knew it was too good to be true.”

Suddenly there was a slam as the servants’ door was wrested open to reveal a flushed Hermione, “He _is _gifted! HE doesn’t believe it but he’s impressed Mrs. McGonagall and Mr. Snape with his abilities, untrained. Don’t listen to a word he says otherwise.”

“Ah! Hermione, I can’t say I was pleased to hear Heir Malfoy requesting you, but I can’t deny the joy I have found in having this young man to assist me.”

She flushed at the subtle reminder of her status but kept her head high.

Ron nodded, “What was the last thing?”

Sirius’ cheeks grew ruddy as he took in the large number in the room. He quickly moved his arm more securely around Harry’s shoulders and guided him into his bedroom where his clothes were laid out on the bed. He shut the door behind them, cutting off the curious voices on the other side.

“Lord Black?”

The man groaned, “You, really, truly, must stop calling me that. Look, I… I have obviously really enjoyed your company. I am more than willing to admit that you help me think of happier times and remind me of my best friend. But what I would really like to know is if you would _want_ to be my ward. Obviously we would have to keep up the dual standards for now, but after the ball I could take you to your relatives and we could make it official. You could come live with me at Grimmauld Hall. It’s not the most pleasant space but I would help you get started in any career you wanted and you might be able to take on the title of the Black family and that would be a good thing regardless of how I feel about the name.”

He cut himself off to stare at Harry’s wide eyes.

“Of course,” he cleared his throat to continue, “I do understand if you would rather not. It is entirely understandable and reasonable.”

“Lord Black?” Harry flushed, “Sorry, Sirius? I… do you mean it? Because if you do- I think that would be the most wonderful thing I have ever heard.”

The roguish man grinned, “Is that a yes?”

Harry nodded, still flushing to the roots of his hair.

Sirius let out a whoop and Harry laughed along with him.

“Then let’s celebrate by bringing you with me to the ball. You’ll walk in with myself and Neville and everyone will know.”

Harry loved that idea, “But- It is not official yet. Couldn’t we still get in trouble?”

“Not really. I mean so long as we show we’re making steps to make it official, for example- having five witnesses to my intentions and your acceptance, then they won’t have much to go off and they won’t be able to do anything unless they have legitimate proof.”

Harry allowed himself to be guided back into the main room where Sirius proceeded to tell everyone present that Harry had agreed, but was refusing to attend the ball. A lie of course, but one that served it’s purpose of getting all of the occupants involved in getting him to go. All except Hermione who merely shook her head and disappeared out of the door again.

The boy was pretty sure he still had not actually agreed when he was being decked out again in fancier clothes than he had ever imagined he’d wear. The red-heads helped to adjust the Lord’s style in order to make a nod to the latest, youthful fashion trends. Sirius seemed more interested in them than any forty-year-old man had a right to be.

But Harry could not help but smile at the man who could become his guardian. He was so different from the Dursley’s and even if he seemed a little more childish than most people he knew, Harry was certain that nothing but good could come from a life with Sirius Black in it.

It was an unbelievably long time before the men had primped Harry to their approval and Neville laughingly waved them off of his person before pointing out that the ball had begun an hour ago and people would be wondering where they were.

Harry quickly helped Sirius to dress and soon enough they were on their way. Judging by the looks they got when they arrived no one was really expecting their group to appear, much less appear together.

The green-eyed boy suddenly remember why he did not want to come to the ball and ducked his head down in the hopes of avoiding attention of the heir Prince.

“Lord Black, quite a pleasant surprise to see you to the dancing so early in the evening.”

Harry glanced up just enough to see the king himself before he bent into a deep bow, mimicking the man beside him.

“Your highness. I was remiss in leaving my ward here last night. As it appears that he was unfairly captivated by your charming grandson.”

Harry remembered some of comments Tom had made the night before about some of the guests and could barely contain his snort.

“Yeah, “charm” that’s what it was.”

He had not intended to be heard but apparently the king was not as elderly as he looked for he laughed openly. Harry flinched.

“Apologies, your majesty. I intended no offense I merely meant-.”

The king interrupted him with a layered smile, “Thomas is a character all of his own. I am pleased to find that you are not entirely succumbed to his charms.”

“Not entirely.”

The king nodded, “Follow me then. We have much to discuss and I would prefer to do it whilst my grandson is not present. I fear he will only complicate the conversation we are about to have.”

Harry glances at the clock to see that there are two full-hours until he will need to leave. Would he be able to survive that long under the inquiring mind of one King Marvolo?

****

****

Tom walked into the ballroom through a seldom used entrance at about half-past eleven. He kept his eyes peeled for a familiar dark-head of hair but only found it when he was startled by his laugh.

His eyes jumped towards the throne where he spotted Harry conversing with his grandfather and completely ignoring his father who appeared to be miffed by something. His grandfather seemed pleasantly amused although, Tom could see enough to note that something was bothering the older man. Something that he could not quite put his finger on.

Tom was within arms-reach of the trio when Harry suddenly sat up straighter. His hand drifted to the collar of his robes and Tom watched him smile shakily before he stood. Tom could hear the muddled, useless excuses as Harry turned to flee from the ballroom just as he had the night before. He barely nodded at the guards who seemed to hear nothing other than the young man, including the king calling for them to bar the doors. And Tom himself calling after Harry.

Tom managed to get through the front doors of the palace, but once again found them empty. He cast a revealing charm but, once again, he found nothing! He muttered under his breath. Watching vacantly as his breath hung in the air in a mocking cloud.

Tomorrow he would speak again with his father and grandfather about this young man. If his memories were to be understood, there were quite a few elements of Harry’s life that needed to be discuss. The man’s heritage for one. His lack of blood-status for another, especially since Harry’s magic was powerful and pure. And finally, Harry’s homelife.

Abuse was _not_ tolerated in their kingdom.

And if it meant that they would need to offer the young man compensation by way of a new title well that would just be terribly convenient for Tom’s marriage requirements. What a coincidence.

With that thought Tom strode back into his party. He had a feeling that hiding in the palace yet again, rather than attending the ball would be frowned upon.


End file.
